


Husband & Wife

by introvertedpeg



Series: Cloudroad Farm [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Title: Let's Fool Everyone Even Ourselves, Angst, Awkward First Times, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Sexual Situations, Communication is Very Important, Demisexual Elliott, F/M, Fake Marriage, Family Issues, Funny Animal Names, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, Listen it's an awkward time all around, Meet the Family, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Old crushes, One big game of chicken, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Shane/Female Player is implied?, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex, oblivious flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/introvertedpeg/pseuds/introvertedpeg
Summary: Elliott's in a bit of a sticky spot. He thinks Margaret can help him out of it. She'd do anything to help out her best friend, even if it means marrying him for a couple of weeks to fool his family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this is just a general shitty self-insert fan fic with a fake marriage trope. I just think there needs to be more Elliott content out there and if I have to be the supplier then well I might as well. I'm hoping it's entertaining for someone at least.

Margaret was roused from sleep by the sounds of hurried knocking at her front door, followed by the sound of her dog barking. Only slightly grumbling, the farmer ran her hands through her sleep-mussed hair as she rose and padded from her room to the front of the house. Quickly shushing the fluffy dog who ran around her knees, she opened the door with a small yawn.

Elliott stood there, hand slightly raised to continue knocking. “Ah, did I rouse you from sleep? It was not my intention, my apologies. However-“ His eyes left her face and paused on her barely-covering nightgown, face reddening slightly at the amount of leg visible. “Are those your pajamas?”

Smiling slightly, Margaret opened the door wider, “Come in, Elliott. I’ll make you some coffee.” 

“I give you my thanks, Margaret.” Elliott swept in, making sure to look at only her face if looking at her. “I don’t mean to intrude, but could you indulge me in hearing out a selfish request of mine?”

Curiosity piqued, she led Elliott to the kitchen table so he could sit while she made him some coffee and herself her morning tea. Glancing at Elliott, she noticed that his normally put-together and whimsical aura was slightly… distressed. His hair looked barely any better than hers did, and it looked like a couple of his buttons were unbuttoned. For the author, it was practically unheard of to look so disordered. “What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

“Ah… yes, you see…” Elliott hesitated, his hand twitching as if to touch his hair. “I believe I have mentioned that my family frowns upon my aspirations, correct?” After a nod in confirmation, he continued, “Well, I just found out this morning that they will be coming to stay in Pelican Town for two weeks.”

Margaret furrowed her brow, “When are they arriving?” She imagined that he would ask for them to stay in her house. Currently, it was the largest (and emptiest) house in town, what with the multiple additions she had Robin build. It wouldn’t be too much trouble for them to stay, as long as there were not more than three or four of them. So why did he look so panicked?

“The letter says that they should disembark the train this Friday evening.” Elliott waved his hand in a flourish, exasperation heavy in his voice.

“If you need them to stay here, they are welcome to. The house is too empty for myself and Hunden sometimes.” Margaret reached for some mugs, feeling Elliott’s eyes on her as she rose to her tip-toes to get the only other mug she owned. She was struggling to reach it though, and not for the first time in her life she cursed that she wasn’t an inch or two taller.

She heard Elliott move and felt him at her back, his tall frame easily grabbing the mug and placing it back on the counter. “That is… one puzzle piece to the issue. My real request is much odder, I must admit, and frankly I would not blame you if you said no.”

Margaret turned with a mumbled thanks, waiting for Elliott to move out of her space. She looked up at his face when he didn’t, surprised when he didn’t immediately shuffle back to the table. Instead, she found herself admiring the elegant angles of his face, as she was want to do when he was not looking. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to be my wife.”

Stunned, Margaret could only blink up at him for a few moments. Had he figured out finally that all of those pomegranates and lobsters she’s been giving him for the past year and a half was her attempt at flirting with him? Already feeling the rising warmth of a blush on her skin to match the one Elliott wore, she stuttered out, “Me? Your wife?”

“I know, it’s an odd request,” Elliott grimaced. “I would ask that we bluff our way through the week they will be staying as newlyweds. My family would surely support my goals if they thought I also helped to run a farm as lovely as yours.” This time, he did brush his hand through his hair, but in an attempt to hide some of the blush on his face. “Aside from Willy and Leah, you are my closest friend. My best friend, if I may be bold. I would not want to ask this of someone I am not very comfortable around. I do not think my presence makes you uncomfortable, and so you are the best option.”

A part of her deflated at his reasoning, but her logic held to it. Patting him on the chest, Margaret gestured back to the chair he previously sat in. “Sit down, give me a moment. The coffee is ready.”

“Of course, I’ll give you all the time you require.” Elliott gave an uneasy grin and sat back down, trying to not stare at her as she poured him coffee and placed it in front of him.

Sitting down and crossing her legs at the notice of Elliott’s distracted eyes, Margaret grasped the warm cup of tea between her fingers. “Why don’t you tell them the truth?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, Elliott sighed, “Truthfully? I do not wish to disappoint them. I am terrified that if they take one look at my sad excuse for a cabin, they will demand I return to the city. I do not wish for that. I have so much invested here. In my novel, in the forest, the waves, the people.” He glanced up at her meaningfully. “I need to remain here. My family would not hesitate to try and stop me again. If I can convince them that I have a stable and successful life, maybe they will finally leave me to my writing.”

“Hm,” Margaret sat back in her chair, thinking over the words carefully. She had known for some time that his family was a sore spot with him, but from the hints he gave her she had more of a clear picture. “I still think being truthful with them is the best course of action, but okay. I’ll play along. What do we need to do?”

Elliott’s relief was obvious, his shoulders dropping. “You have my sincerest gratitude, Margaret. I’ll be sure to return your kindness tenfold.” He quickly drained the coffee from his mug, “One obstacle is that I do not own a mermaid pendant. We cannot have the ceremony without it.”

“Oh, you actually want to get married?” Margaret almost squeaked, her tea sloshing in her cup.

The blush returned to his face. “It’s not very romantic, I realize. I did not want to rely on the entire town lying for me. Too many people involved in a lie makes it easier for the truth to slip through.” He leaned forward, “I wouldn’t wish to endanger your reputation, either. As soon as my family has departed we will sign divorce papers. No one would blame you, and we can explain it to the town afterwards.” Reaching forward, Elliott grasped her hands in both of his long-fingered hands. “Please, I am aware of how selfish I am being, but I do not know of any other way.”

Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, Margaret glanced over to a cabinet just over Elliott’s shoulder. There was a mermaid pendant in there, bought from a washed-up sailor during the last rain of the fall. In truth, she was hoping to propose to Elliott one day if he ever returned her feelings. If he never did, then she was content to move on one day.

“Be careful,” Elliott’s thumb brushed across her lips, “I’d hate for you to accidentally break skin.”

She smiled at her dear friend, “Right.” Patting the hand that still held hers, Margaret chuckled lightly, “Well, this is certainly the oddest proposal I’ve received.”

Elliott’s hopeful smile wavered, “Have you received many?”

“Don’t worry, there are no mysterious suitors that will come after you,” shaking her head, Margaret eased out of her chair and went to the cabinet to retrieve the mermaid pendant. “Luckily, I had one of these saved for a rainy day. Or a happy day, I suppose.”

“Margaret, you are a miracle in human skin.” Elliot beamed, jumping up and grabbing the pendant from her waiting hand. “If I may?”

Very much aware of the state of her dress, Margaret nodded, suddenly nervous as Elliott got to one knee before her. “This really is not necessary, Elliott.”

Elliott chuckled lightly, tucking strands of his hair behind his ear, “If I do one thing right, let it be this.” He cleared his throat and presented the mermaid pendant to her, “Margaret, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Of course, Elliott.” Margaret laughed lightly, even as she felt her stomach clench up. How she loved him for his quirks. Pulling him up, she let him clasp the pendant around her neck to fall between her breasts.

He gathered her into a tight hug that she returned, her hands clenching the fabric of his coat. She was impressed that he was able to even lift her off her toes. “Thank you, Margaret. I will work on the preparations so that the ceremony may be held this Thursday. Please, leave everything to me. I do not wish to occupy more of your time.” He pulled back to look at her. “You have the kindness of a thousand saints.”

Margaret had to roll her eyes with a smile on her face, “You’re flattering me too much, Elliott. I would do anything to help you out. There is one thing though…”

“And that is?” Elliott hesitated, drawing out the question. 

“You’re going to need to not be embarrassed by me showing a little skin if we’re going to be married. It’s okay, you know? You’re not the first friend to cope a feel either. We’ll need to really sell it for your family,” Margaret teased.

Sputtering, Elliott turned as red as one of her tomatoes, “I would never presume to!” He set her back on her feet and stepped back and resolutely looked at her face. “I would not ask you to go that far, Margaret.”

“Hm,” she placed her hands on her hips, “we’ll just have to work on that later then. You go make the preparations. I have a farm to run.”

Still red, Elliott’s eyes strayed lower than her face to the mermaid pendant, “Of course. I will see myself out. You have my thanks again.”

“Like I said, I would do anything to help you out, Elliott. You’re my best friend here. Now go on and do what you need to do. I’ll be around the farm today if you need me.” Walking back to the table, Margaret took a large swallow of the lukewarm tea. She was going to need all the help she could get.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for the encouraging notes, and for leaving kudos! ♥ It means a lot to me, even if I don't respond.
> 
> Anyways, here's the second chapter. Things get a little hot under the collar, just to make things interesting. We'll learn more about Margaret in the fourth chapter, when Elliott's parents arrive and make things even more awkward than it already is.
> 
> If there's something you'd like me to include, don't be afraid to ask! I may also be open to small prompts at some point where I can experiment a little more with what I'm writing. So really, don't be afraid to give me more ideas!
> 
> Thanks! ♥

It was Wednesday evening and Margaret was exhausted. Between the preparations for the wedding, cleaning the spare bedrooms, and taking care of the farm she was wiped out. Elliott and Margaret had decided to meet at her place for dinner and to go over the final details of the façade they would put up for the next two weeks. It had taken almost all of her energy to drag herself to shower off the grime of the day and change into a comfy pair of running shorts and a baggy t-shirt from a metal band she used to listen to back in college.

Exhaustion seeped into every corner of her being, reminding her how shitty Margaret felt about the whole thing. It had hit her after Elliott had left the first time that he obviously did not think of her as anything more than a close friend. As soon as his parents were on the outbound train, they would be signing divorce papers. Then they would go back to just being friends, at least to the outside world. She had never been obvious about her feelings, and now she was going to end up hurting herself in order to help him. How typical of her.

Margaret was stirring the soup in front of her when Elliott knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called, not turning from the stove as she heard him enter and announce himself.

She jumped when he was suddenly leaning over her shoulder to look into the pot, “My, what a delectable aroma! I presume this is tom kha soup?”

“It’s my first time trying this recipe, so I am not sure how it’s supposed to taste,” she breathed heavily through her nose. Margaret took the spoon from the pot and held it up to Elliott, “What do you think?”

Blowing on it gently before taking the soup into his mouth, Elliott made a small noise of surprise. He swallowed before replying, “The shrimp comes through well, while not overpowering the individual tastes of the coconut and the mushroom. Delicious! Though I would perhaps add a pinch of salt.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip, “I did not think you were such a food connoisseur. Alright,” she quickly stirred in some more salt as recommended and held the spoon up to him again. “How about now?”

He held her gaze as he taste-tested once again. Licking his lips, he announced the soup to be perfect. “Where do you keep your bowls? I shall set the table for you, as you made the food and it would only be fair.”

Pointing to the right cupboard, Margaret asked, “Is everything set for tomorrow?”

Elliott handed her the bowls to be filled, setting them on the table and finding silverware to also set on the table. “Indeed it is! All you merely need to do is show up before half past ten o’clock.”

“Perfect,” she smiled, chuckling at the thought. “A couple of the women are refusing to let me just ‘show up’ though. Jodi is letting me borrow her old wedding gown and the duo of Haley and Leah demanded to do my hair and makeup.” Sitting down at the table across from Elliott, she began to dig into the soup.

Elliott’s spoon paused on the way to his mouth, eyes frozen on her. Almost as in prayer he lifted his eyes above and the spoon continued its journey to his full mouth. “It seems I shall need to dress to meet their expectations then.”

“They’re just excited. Even if we do tell them the truth eventually, at least the town will get some sort of enjoyment out of it,” Margaret shrugged.

The rest of the meal dissolved into pleasant conversation and discussion on final details, mainly moving some of Elliott’s belongings into the house so as to add to the appearance of a married couple. Margaret enjoyed it, almost imagining that this is what evenings could be like if they were truly married. Quiet, pleasant conversation made with another person instead of eating cold food by herself. Her heart hurt at the reminder it would not happen. 

They were washing up from the meal when Elliott spoke up again, clearing his throat before doing so. “I’ve been pondering how best to go about convincing my parents that we are married. Being friends, we are already emotionally intimate and know much about each other, so that shall not need to be replicated. Physical intimacy, on the other hand…”

“Well, we do have to kiss in the ceremony tomorrow,” Margaret sputtered, her face immediately heating up as she was suddenly acutely aware of how close the two of them were standing. “What do you suggest we do, Elliott?” She held out a wet bowl for him to dry, conscious of the way Elliott looked at her.

Clearing his throat nervously, Elliott took the bowl and towel-dried it before placing it back in its cupboard, “Nothing neither of us would be uncomfortable doing with the other. Perhaps we should devote some time tonight to merely being next to each other?”

Both of their faces look liked they had been running for hours under a hot sun, but Margaret tried to not think too hard about it. “Elliott, please do not laugh at me, but I’m about to tell you something that no one knows.”

Elliott paused, turning to look at her intensely, “You can trust me with anything, Margaret. I will not make light of you.”

“I…” Margaret bit her lip, trying to figure out how to best put it. “I’ve never been kissed by anyone before.”

He blinked, eyes flickering between her eyes and lips as he processed the words. “There is no shame in that, Margaret. I am surprised since you are a great beauty, but it is not a thing I would laugh about.”

Her heart almost stopped at his words and she gave a shaky smile, “You flatter me too much, Elliott. But thank you.” She finished the last dish, draining the dirty water and ringing her hands in another towel to distract herself. “If it’s not too selfish of me to ask, I would rather not have my first kiss be on my wedding day.”

“It’s certainly not selfish. Is there anyone in particular-“ Elliott stopped at Margaret’s pointed look, understanding dawning on his face. “I suppose it would be odd to kiss another person right before your wedding.”

Margaret nodded, hanging up her towel next to Elliott’s. “I know that just because we are friends and about to be married for a couple weeks doesn’t mean we have to do something like that. I would understand if you were not comfortable with kissing me.”

Elliott’s response was quick, almost panicked, “That is certainly not a problem, Margaret. I was just taken aback. You always presented yourself as wary of physical contact and I did not want to presume.”

“Well,” Margaret smiled at Elliott, feeling a little more comfortable by his slight rambling, “I’m not. Everyone thinks I am, but I actually love to cuddle.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he assessed her furnishings again, “That is certainly one way to quickly gain physical intimacy.”

Blinking, she asked with confusion laced in her voice, “What are you looking for?”

A flush worked over his skin as Elliott muttered, “A good place to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Margaret looked away, shifting on her feet. “You don’t have to worry about that. If you just want to kiss me right here is fine.”

“Mood is very important!” Elliott raised his eyebrows. “Surely you do not want your first kiss to be next to a sink?”

A small voice inside her head agreed with him, but she didn’t give voice to it. She wanted the awkward tension to diffuse from her body, and the sooner their lips touched the better. “Just kiss me, Elliott. Let’s get this over with.”

Frowning slightly, Elliott acquiesced, “It should not be a thing to merely ‘get over with’. Very well, though.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and Margaret immediately shut her eyes.

She resisted the urge to lick her lips and stood still. The floorboards under their feet creaked as Elliott leaned into her, a single finger lifting her chin. Margaret could smell the spice in the musk he wore and felt her heart begin to race, her breath quickly chasing after. There was the feeling of something soft pressing against her lips, and then nothing.

Her eyes flew open, Elliott’s eyes meeting hers despite the deep flush on their faces. Disappointment welled in her. “That’s it?” 

Elliott huffed and grabbed her by the waist, “No, I refuse to let that be your first kiss.” He lifted her in the air, causing Margaret to quickly throw her arms around his neck for fear of falling. “Please choose for me, Margaret. Do you prefer the table, the couch, or your bed?”

Elliott’s eyes piercing her in place, Margaret could only give him a wide-eyed look, “What?”

“The correct mood is essential,” Elliott explained simply. “We were too utilitarian. Sterilized, even. That was not a kiss. It was merely lips pressing against each other.” A smile grew as he explained himself, “So. Table, couch, or bed?”

“You’re really getting into this, Elliott,” she stuttered out, aware of every inch of her pressed against Elliott. She tried to think straight, “The counter.”

He blinked, then nodded, “Interesting choice.” Elliott moved somewhat smoothly to the side, lifting her up higher and depositing her on the counter. With his prompting, Margaret spread her knees so that he could step between them and closer to her. “In truth, there is no correct way to kiss. There are a plentitude of wrong ways to go about it on the other hand. I do not claim to be a master of kissing, but let us try something.” Elliot’s hands rested on either side of her legs, his face aligned with hers at the height she was sitting at.

Biting her lip again, Margaret tried her hardest to relax, but it was hard when the object of your affections was trying to teach you how to kiss. “Don’t be afraid to touch me, Elliott. I won’t break. I might be startled, but unless I say no to something you have my full consent.”

“I was about to say the same to you,” Elliott chuckled lightly. “First, come closer to me.” He waited as Margaret scooted forward, not saying anything until all she would have to do is lean forward for them to be pressed together from hip to shoulder. It also meant that it was harder to look anywhere but at Elliott. “Are you nervous?”

Margaret bit back a sarcastic laugh, opting for a shy smile, “Incredibly.” She could almost feel his warmth through their clothing from how close they were.

“Me too,” Elliott’s smile mirrored her own. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on her bare thigh and took a deep breath, “I propose you place your arms around my neck. They will act as a connecting point, and will ensure they remain free or out of the way.” As Margaret did so, his hand lightly gripped her thigh. 

“Kisses are evanescent portals of love, capable of leaving a lingering impact if done correctly or with the right person.” Elliott’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. He spoke like she was the only one in the world. Margaret’s heart seemed to think it could run faster than it was before, practically taking flight. “Think about me, Margaret. Let me consume your thoughts until all you wish to do is kiss me. Show me your love, Margaret. Tell me with your lips against mine how much love you have within you.”

It wasn’t hard. There were times she felt like she would choke and drown in how much she felt. As Margaret began to move in, Elliott continued to speak.

“Don’t close your eyes until the last second,” this time, his voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid.”

She did as he said, watching his lips move closer until she felt the first brush of them against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as Elliott’s other hand came up to cup the side of her face. Margaret let her lips fall into place with his, hoping against hope that he could taste the love she felt for him. All of those stories she read told her that she would feel fireworks. It was the opposite. It was beautiful stillness and silence, like an unclouded night sky full of stars. And it was nice, she decided, before Elliott pulled back slightly. Margaret opened her eyes.

Elliott smiled back at her, a healthy amount of blush on his face. “Has this improved your thinking on kisses?”

“Not yet,” she breathed out, fingers grabbing onto the back of his collar to hold onto something. “Another.”

Eyes widening, Elliott looked puzzled for a moment before indulging her in another short, perfect kiss.

“Another.”

Their lips found each other for longer this time, and Margaret realized that Elliott was holding back. She felt confusion for a split second, before Elliott pulled away.

“Stop holding back, Elliott.” Margaret murmured into the space between them.

Elliott was breathing heavily, “Forgive me, I only meant to show you the power of a good kiss.” He leaned back into her, his hand grabbing the small of her back to pull her closer. “But you taste far sweeter than I imagined. Do you care if we-“

“You’re so good at this, I don’t care what you do to me,” Margaret cut him off, half of a mind to pull him by his necktie.

Margaret watched as his pupils dilated and he gulped, “In that case…”

When they kissed this time, there was no stillness. Margaret wasn’t sure which of them pulled the other closer, but they were as close as they could possibly be with clothes on. Each of Elliott’s hands anchored her to time, one behind her head and the other spread across her back. Her hands were wrapped around him, tethering Elliott to her. She felt his lips open and mirrored his actions, letting out a surprised noise when she felt his tongue. Welcoming him into her mouth, Margaret sighed into the kiss. They were sloppy, but she didn’t care. Not when she was kissing the man she loved and he was kissing back with enough force it could almost convince her he felt the same way. She didn’t know where to place her hands, and so she placed them wherever – running her fingers through his hair and along his jaw, holding tight to the back of his jacket – whatever she could get her hands on.

Elliott was the same way, and Margaret swallowed a heavy breath as one of his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and made its way up her back, grabbing at her with warm fingers that brought them even closer together. She broke away to breath, feeling too lightheaded. Elliott began to kiss along her jaw before tracing a path down the arch of her neck, his other hand joining the other under her shirt. After a moment of moral conflict, Margaret tore her shirt off, exposing the basic black bra she wore in contrast to her milky skin. As it had been for the past two days, the mermaid pendant rested against her breastbone.

Watching his face as he took her in, Margaret felt her confidence soar considerably. While certainly annoying, she was well aware of how well-endowed she was. She was also aware that her clothing often concealed her true shape, downplaying how large she was in some areas and making her waist much larger than it was in reality. Seeing Elliott realize these things brought her a strange amount of satisfaction. For a man so well-versed in words, he seemed awfully tongue-tied.

Just as Elliott moved towards her, Hunden began to bark outside. With that, whatever spell had been woven between them broke. The confidence she felt evaporated, leaving her blushing all over from how forward she had been. Not that Elliott was much better, his face redder than his hair.

Coughing politely, Elliott looked away as Margaret put her shirt back on. “My apologies, I did not intend to…”

Margaret shook her head, “Please don’t apologize, Elliott. I was the one who asked you in the first place and pushed you. We got caught in the moment.”  
She grabbed Elliott’s hand as he stepped away, pleading, “I hope this does not make things awkward between us.”

“I refuse for it to,” Elliott finally met her eyes, his lips slightly swollen from kissing. Briefly, Margaret thought about how she wanted to kiss him again. She held herself back. “Thank you for the food and hospitality, Margaret.”

Letting his hand go, Margaret attempted what she could imagine was a put-together smile, if her world was made of chaos that is. “You’re very welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow? 10:30 in the main square?”

If this was a romance novel from the previous century, this is where Elliott would have held his hat as he bowed and excused himself from the room. As it was not, he merely smiled in response with a nod, “Correct. Please, have a pleasant rest of the night.” With quick steps just short of running, Elliott left.

Margaret waited until she heard the door close before slumping against the cabinet behind her. Dully, she felt her own swollen lips before covering her face with her hands. Why did men confuse her so much? And why, for the love of Yoba, did her heart hurt so much? “Give me a break…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a village to put together a wedding in three days' time!

Somehow, Margaret was able to force herself out of bed early the next morning. The girls who were going to help her get ready for the wedding would arrive around eight, and if she was to get all of her morning chores done before then with a chance to shower, she needed more time. Even with waking up around five, it took her almost the full three hours to water the crops and care for the animals. Luckily her crops were doing well, and she set aside some peppers to give as a thank you gift to Lewis for holding the ceremony. Perhaps that would ease some of the sting when she and Elliott revealed the truth.

Jodi, Haley, and Leah met her as she was placing the rest of her goods in the chest for Lewis to retrieve that night. Draped over Jodi’s arm was her wedding dress, placed in a bag to preserve it. Haley seemed to be carrying a case of cosmetics, while Leah was burdened by a vast quantity of wildflowers. Jodi and Haley were breathing hard from the trek up to the farm, but Margaret thought it best she not mention it.

Dusting off her hands, Margaret smiled at the three, “Good morning, ladies! Thank you so much in advance. Everything was just so last minute that we were sure it was going to be a very casual thing.”

“Are you kidding?” Haley laughed lightly, “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened here in years. I’m not letting you look like a mess on your wedding day.”

“The town is all abuzz, wanting to know how this all happened so fast,” Leah threw her braid over her shoulder. “Might as well give them enough to gossip about for the next couple of years, yeah?”

Laughing uneasily, Margaret led them into her house, “Well, it was fast for us too. Would you like coffee, or tea? It’s the least I can do.”

They all told her what they would like, and Margaret got to work making the beverages for them. She watched as they bustled around the house and setting their burdens down. Haley went in search of the bathroom to set up shop. The flowers that Leah had brought she dumped onto the floor, where she promptly sat crossed-legged and began sorting through them. Margaret decided to leave her to it and looked to Jodi, who draped her precious cargo across her table before unzipping it.

Margaret thanked all the gods that listened to her that Jodi’s old wedding dress was rather plain for the decade she had bought it in, missing the large poofy sleeve caps that were caricature of the style. Really, it did look relatively modern.

“Kent and I are both glad it will be able to see another use out of it,” Jodi smiled fondly down at the dress, smoothing some of the wrinkles. “I had hoped to maybe have my daughter wear it, if I had ever had one.” She gave Margaret a wink, “I guess you’ll do.”

Gulping, Margaret looked at the simple cowl neckline and sleek lines, “I’m just hoping it fits, Jodi. I think I am bigger than you were when you got married. I’ve seen the pictures.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jodi placed a hand on her shoulder, “I brought a sewing kit. Let’s try it on real quick and see what adjustments I need to make.”

The next two hours were a flurry of caffeine, makeup, hairspray, and hurried alterations as the trio did their best to make Margaret a presentable bride. She did learn eventually that Leah was weaving together a bouquet and matching flower crown to wear in place of a veil. Haley also discovered that Margaret was well acquainted with cosmetics, practically drooling over the medium-sized bin of high end makeup she bought but rarely used since becoming a farmer. All that was left was trying to squeeze her into the dress. Somehow.

“Oh come on, you don’t have any lingerie for Elliott?” Haley huffed as Margaret stood in her bedroom, clad in the only nice matching underwear she owned. 

She flushed, “It was never a focus in my life until now.” It was a wonder she even owned one thong, considering how uncomfortable they made her. Never mind the fact that there was never any need for lingerie, and that her evening was definitely not ending with Elliott taking an interest in what was on under the dress. Unfortunately, if she wore anything else she was sure it would be seen through the material.

Jodi rolled her eyes, “Trust me, don’t waste your money on lingerie. I’ve seen what counts for wedding lingerie these days and you’d be better off with a cobweb for some of them.”

“Plus, I don’t think Elliott’s very concerned about what she’s wearing,” Leah gave Margaret a warm smile as she added more flowers to the already huge bouquet.

Haley snorted, “I’m just disappointed. Who knew you were hiding such a nice body under those flannels you’re always wearing?”

“Elliott, probably,” Leah smirked, before making a gross noise, “Now I have that mental image in my head. I really didn’t need that. Just get in the dress so we can finish up, okay?”

Sputtering was all Margaret could do, trying her best to not think of the way Elliott had looked at her last night. It was practically imprinted onto the back of her eyelids. “Let’s hope it will fit, I’d hate for all of the alterations you did to go to waste.”

“Don’t be so worried, you’re not that big,” Jodi assured her, opening the dress. She helped to pull the dress up as Margaret stepped into it. Everyone in the room held their breath as it slipped over her hips and finally onto her shoulders. They waited as Jodi buttoned the long line of buttons from shoulder to lower back. As the last button slid into the buttonhole, they all let out a sigh of relief. “See? It looks lovely on you, Margaret. Elliott will be ecstatic.”

There was a tight feeling in her chest as Margaret smoothed the light ivory silk over her front, turning to look at her friends. “Thank you, truly.” The dress itself draped over the curves she had, the cut of the skirt simply falling to the ground with a small train behind her. It was elegant and understated, and Margaret could see why Jodi had chosen the dress.

“Here,” Leah smiled, stepping forward with the large flower crown. “Let’s get this on you fast. We’re running out of time and I want to see Elliott cry at the sight of you.”

“He will not,” Margaret gasped, but bent down so that Leah could place her creation on the long dark brown curls Haley had worked on after applying makeup better than Margaret herself could have. She remained crouched as Leah pinned the crown to her head, almost groaning as she heard someone knocking on the door.

Haley jumped up, “I’ll get that for you, Margaret.” She returned a moment later, with a slightly haggard Evelyn in tow.

Straightening, Margaret rushed to offer Evelyn a chair, “What are you doing up here Evelyn? It’s a bit of a hard walk between Cloudroad Farm and town.”

“Why don’t you look like the prettiest spring flower? I heard some of the other girls’ plans to help you out today and wanted to contribute a bit of something of my own,” Evelyn gave her sweet, Grandmotherly Brand™ smile and reached into her purse to pull out a velvet box. “I wore these for my wedding, as did my daughter. I want you to wear them, since I am sure you do not have any good jewelry for such an occasion. I hope it’s not too forward of me.” She opened the box, showing a matching set of earring studs, a bracelet, and necklace. The necklace somehow accentuated the mermaid pendant, showing off the pearly sheen. 

The tight feeling in her chest got worse, but Margaret smiled, “Thank you so much, Evelyn. I would love to wear these! How could I say no after you came all this way to let me borrow something so precious?”

“That’s this community for you,” Haley grinned. “We stick together.”

Trying her best to not choke up, Margaret put on the jewelry. She looked at herself and felt herself tear up. It was never how she imagined herself, but she looked like a bride. “I cannot thank all of you enough.” It was a shame that this marriage was as real as the matte red lipstick she wore. She only hoped it was smudge-proof, for Elliott’s sake. Taking a deep breath, Margaret turned back to her friends with a smile plastered to her face, “You are all my fairy godmothers today. Let’s get going, so that I’m not late to my own wedding.”

Jodi glanced at the watch on her wrist, “Oh yes, it’s almost time, isn’t it?”

Standing again, Evelyn nodded, “Everything was set up in the plaza as I was walking here. I believe I saw Elliott’s family with him. How wonderful it is that one of your families can make it to the ceremony.”

“We… weren’t expecting them until tomorrow,” Margaret managed to get out, anxiety immediately throwing her mind into chaos. She didn’t think they would have to deal with them so soon. She felt nauseous. She felt more than nauseous.

“Margaret?” Leah’s face swam into her vision, “You suddenly went pale. Are you nervous?”

“Yes.” She said, swallowing dryly. “I’ll be fine.”

Haley touched her shoulder, “I would be nervous too. It’s all happened so fast.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Margaret muttered. She shook her head, smacking her cheeks lightly. They would make this work. Now they wouldn’t have to awkwardly explain they had just gotten married. She wasn’t ready, but it would have to do. “Let’s go.”

The walk was longer than she remembered, with her carefully holding the hem of the dress above the dirt road. As they entered into town, the women crowded around her, suddenly remembering the old wives tale involving the bride seeing the groom before the ceremony being bad luck. Luckily, Evelyn was wearing a large shawl and allowed the women to throw it over Margaret’s head before anyone else could see her. She allowed them to pull her along, heart pounding as she heard people muttering.

“I’ll go check and see if everything is ready with Lewis,” Jodi told her, somewhere to her right and she could just barely hear her shoes tapping against the cobblestone away.

“Where am I, exactly?” She tried to lift the shawl to peek out and reassert where she was in relation to whatever was going on.

Haley’s face appeared in the small gap, “We’re around the corner of my house. I think you’re safe to take this off now. Here, let me do it so we don’t ruin your hair.”

“Thank you,” she murmured as the shawl was lifted. She let Haley and Leah fuss over her hair and makeup without a word of complaint, even though she felt dizzy and her head a little too light.

Almost running, Jodi rounded the corner, “Everyone is ready. The rest of us need to go and find our places. Will you be okay without us, Margaret?”  
She pushed her anxiety to the side as much as she could. Margaret should be happy, despite the circumstances. In her usual fashion, she forced a smile to her face to hide her true feelings. “You all have been so much help. I doubt I will be able to thank you enough. Go on, I’ll be fine. It’s my wedding, after all!”

Squeezing her hand, Leah whispered to Margaret before handing her the bouquet and walking away, “Elliott looks especially handsome today. Knock him dead.”  
Margaret began praying to whatever gods might be listening to give her strength.

The rest of them walked around the corner. She waited for the people to go quiet, taking a series of deep breathes through her nose to help calm her nerves. It didn’t work. Her stomach was in knots, her knees wanted her to fall to the ground, and she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking no matter how hard she clutched the bouquet. But hell if she was going to let Elliott down.

As she took those couple of steps around the corner, her heels clicking in the hushed silence, Margaret made herself focus in on Elliott. She smiled at the slightly stunned look on his face as he turned with everyone else to look at her. Unfortunately for Leah, there definitely were no tears in his eyes. There was almost an awkward amount of silence as she walked between the two crowds of townsfolk, her eyes never leaving Elliott’s face. Leah had been telling the truth, Elliott was especially handsome. The cut of his grey suit showed off his broad shoulders, a sprig of wildflowers that matched her bouquet and crown tucked into his buttonhole. Leah must’ve made that too. He still wore the same green tie he loved so much, but it did a marvelous job at bringing out his eyes. As they stared at each other, Elliott’s face went from stunned to grinning.

Then suddenly they were standing next to each other under an arbor covered in flowers. Elliott reached out his hand and Margaret took it. Despite how calm and collected he looked, Margaret immediately understood that he was nervous as well by the clamminess of his hand. He shot her an apologetic look to which she responded with what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. They turned to face the crowd, and Lewis.

Lewis cleared his throat, beginning the vows. Margaret stopped paying attention, instead beginning to search for unfamiliar faces in the crowd that could be Elliott’s family. She recognized some of Elliott’s features in the faces of an older couple towards the front. Not knowing what to expect, Margaret found them to be rather… normal looking. Perhaps she expected his parents to have an air of nobility, as that was the impression she had gained when Elliott spoke of them. But no, Elliott had his father’s strong face, while he had gained his eyes and hair from his mother it appeared. Overall, they looked like any other couple, familiar in the normalcy. She caught them appraising her, but that was to be expected. A part of her felt relieved.

Elliott and Margaret turned to each other again to finish the vows, gripping each other’s hands tightly as if they could anchor each other. Margaret let out a shaky breath as Lewis called out that they may kiss. This was no biggie after last night’s kisses.

They leaned towards each other, pressing their lips together for a couple of seconds to allow the crowd to begin cheering before breaking away. Despite what she had previously thought, Margaret was still blushing as she met Elliott’s eyes again. He squeezed her hand, a light tint to his own cheeks. For a moment, Margaret could’ve imagined they were truly getting married. She brushed the dream aside as they turned back to the crowd, watching people throw rice into the air. 

They were husband and wife, if only for these next two weeks. Margaret prayed her heart be strong, so as not to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the kind comments, it really makes my day to hear you guys like what I'm doing! ♥
> 
> I decided to be a little more... elaborate with the wedding than we get in-game, cause honestly who shows up for their wedding in flannel and overalls? Especially when the spouse is all dressed up. It just doesn't seem right haha.
> 
> This chapter came out a little later than I had hoped it would be, but last week was... rough, to put it simply. I hope everyone has a better week than I did, and I'm hoping to update this upcoming weekend if I am lucky!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's meet the family!

“I’m so happy for the two of you,” Willy grinned, holding several wrapped crab pots as gifts to them. “You two certainly dived right in, but I couldn’t’ve picked a better ship to put stock in!”

Margaret almost groaned at the puns, but laughed nervously next to Elliott instead. “Thank you so much, Willy. We really appreciate it.”

Taking the crab pots from Willy, Elliott smiled at his friend, “We’ll be sure to share some of whatever we catch with you. You’ve been too kind to us.”

Willy backed off after mumbling something about it not being a problem. Turning to Elliott, Margaret quietly asked, “Was he the last one?”

He placed the crab pots in the growing pile of presents, which was quickly growing into a physical representation of the amount of guilt Margaret was feeling. “Shane did not greet us. My parents have also waited for the rest of the town to present us with gifts.”

“Ah, yes,” Margaret swallowed. “Shane might be busy with his chickens. Let’s meet the family, then?” She looked around, catching a glimpse of the couple she had seen earlier. Smoothing down her dress, Margaret looked to Elliott, “Put your arm around me.”

Without much thought, Elliott’s hand slid around her waist to rest on her hip. Margaret did the same, and the two of them set out for Elliott’s parents. She was oddly calm, despite her previous anxiety. The two of them would do their best, and that was all she could do at the moment.

Pausing, Elliott waited for his parents to turn to them before smiling widely, “Mother, Father, I would like you to acquaint yourselves with Margaret Cloudroad. Margaret, please meet Eleanor and Garrett, my parents.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet Elliott’s family after all this time,” she smiled, reaching forward to shake their hands. “I’m sorry we kept all of this a secret, we didn’t want the social pressure until we were certain. Oh, and please, call me Peggy. My family calls me Peggy, and we’re family now.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elliott blink in surprise. She ignored it, along with the way his fingers reflexively tightened on her hip.

Garrett’s handshake was firm, “I have not met a Margaret that went by Peggy in some time. The pleasure is all ours. As soon as we got Elliott’s letter about the wedding, we just had to make it in time.”

“And what a nice, quaint wedding it was! Elliott made it sound like it was going to be nothing more than a courtroom wedding.” Eleanor was all smiles as she took Margaret’s hand in her own. “You are quite lovely, and it’s obvious my son cares a lot about you.”

“I would hope so,” Elliott smiled, and Margaret noticed that he and his mother shared the same smile, down to the dimple on the left sides of their faces. “If that were not the case, marrying one another would have made for an awkward affair.”

There was an awkward pause into which Margaret interjected, “How about we make our way to the farm for a late lunch?”

“That sounds splendid,” Eleanor beamed. “Elliott said in his letter that you were a farmer, so I’m very excited to see the farm. What all do you grow?”

Margaret began answering their questions as they gathered the wedding presents and his parent’s luggage. The truth felt so nice on her tongue after a morning full of lies. In all honesty, Elliott’s parents were easy to talk to. They asked her all kinds of questions about what it was like to run a farm by herself, from how to plant grapes to collecting eggs to building kilns. It was the first time anyone had asked her any in-depth questions about her farm, and she was more than happy to answer any and all questions they had.

They arrived to the farm, Margaret smiling at the appreciative noises Eleanor and Garrett made as they looked at the farmhouse and the fields beyond. 

“Your room isn’t completely ready yet, but that can be fixed,” Margaret picked up the hem of the dress as best as she could with her arms full of gifts. “I need to change out of the dress quickly and I’ll begin working on lunch for us. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“A grand idea if I have ever heard one,” Elliott smiled, strain edging his words. With his arms absolutely piled high in presents, he looked like he needed a chance to relax for a moment after the trek up to the farm.

Eleanor chuckled, “You two go ahead and change. Garrett and I will take a look around your farm so you can have a quiet moment to yourselves.”   
For a moment, it looked like Garrett was about to say something in objection before Eleanor placed her hand on his arm, giving him a meaningful look. “Right, we’ll go check out the strawberries you were talking about, Peggy.”

Margaret watched the older couple walk away, arm in arm. She turned back to Elliott and raised an eyebrow, “Let’s find somewhere to stash all of this for the time being. I think I have a spare closet that’s out of the way.”

“Yes, please,” Elliott laughed wearily. “And perhaps a glass of water?”

“I think that could be arranged,” she replied, climbing the stairs. She precariously balanced the gifts on one arm, opening the door as carefully as she could to allow Elliott through. They worked together to pack the presents into the closet of the second guest room, turning them into a large Jenga tower that would hopefully not come crashing down at any moment.

Excusing herself to her room, Margaret sighed. As much as she enjoyed looking nice and being dolled up, there was nothing like her comfortable clothing. She removed each and every pin from her hair to lift off the flower crown from her head. Carefully, she placed the crown on her desk to save later. Then came the jewelry, then the shoes. Rubbing her aching heels, Margaret began to work on unbuttoning the dress.

She didn’t get very far before she realized two things. The first was that her hair had tangled into one of the buttons, and it was becoming impossible to untangle. The second was that she could not reach all of the buttons to unbutton the dress. Margaret struggled for a moment, trying her best to untangle the mess, but not being able to see the actual knot made it that much harder. Hopefully, Elliott might be able to help.

Opening the door, Margaret called out, “Elliott, could you come here and help me with this?”

She heard his footsteps before she saw him. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, startling Margaret for a moment when she realized that she cannot remember ever seeing his arms. “What is the matter?”

They were very nice forearms.

“My hair is tangled in one of the buttons. Also, I can’t reach all of the buttons. Do you mind helping me take care of them?” Margaret sighed, trying to cover up her staring by turning back into the bedroom.

“I do not mind at all,” Elliott responded, crossing the threshold. “Long hair can truly be a hassle at times.”

“It is,” she laughed, gathering the non-tangled hair and holding it over her shoulder. She felt Elliott begin to work on the tangle. “But I think it’s worth the upkeep.”

Elliott hummed, “I most certainly agree. Some would argue that it is not, but I prefer keeping my hair long.” His fingers brushed against the back of her neck, reminding Margaret how closely he stood to her. He worked quietly for a moment, before commenting, “I did not know you went by anything other than Margaret. Does anyone else call you Peggy?”

“Everyone from my old life,” Margaret said simply. “My family and college friends, for the most part. Almost everyone knew me as Peggy.”

Elliott huffed in annoyance, “Your hair is quite tangled. I shall take care of the hard to reach buttons and return to that. Why did you decide to go by Margaret?”

Humming, Margaret thought for a moment. She knew there was a reason, it was just trying to remember that reason. “It must’ve been right out of college. I wanted to work in a big company, managing their environmental impacts and minimizing them. Peggy did not sound like a very serious, business-like name, and so I just always went by Margaret. As Peggy, I always was treated more like a child and not quite a seriously. People respect you more when you have a heavy sounding name. It just stuck with me, I suppose.”

“I know how that can feel,” Elliott sighed, fingers deftly unbuttoning the dress. “Both names suit you, in my humble opinion. I respect your wish to go by Margaret if you wish to.”

Margaret looked over her shoulder at Elliott briefly, giving him a small smile, “Thank you. You can call me whatever you like. I respond to both equally. Do you have any nicknames from a long and dramatic past?”

He looked up at her and snorted lightly, “I would not deign to call it a dramatic past, but when I was a child my mother would call me Eli. Sometimes the occasional Ellie. Elliott serves me well.”

Crinkling her nose, Margaret turned her head to the front to allow him to work on the tangle again. “Ellie is my sister’s nickname. I certainly cannot call you that, it would be weird.” She smiled at Elliott’s easy laugh, “No, perhaps I should give you an embarrassingly sweet nickname, to further pull the wool over everyone’s eyes. How does my heart’s poet sound?”

Elliot laughed loudly, drawing a laugh from Margaret as well. “It is leagues better than ‘pumpkin’ or ‘sugar plum’ however, does it not defeat the purpose of being a nickname if it is longer than my name?” He leaned down to better look at the tangle, his breath hitting the back of her neck. 

She swallowed, very conscious of how she could feel the warmth radiating off of him and the fact that the band of her bra was very visible. “I suppose it does. I’ll use it sparingly, when I am not about to run out of breath.”

“Perhaps… I shall call you my darling daffodil? There!” Elliott proudly declared, sounding about as triumphant as she did when finished planting a season’s crops. “Your hair is free from its bonds.”

“Thank you, my heart’s poet.” Margaret smirked as she turned around to face him. Elliott’s face blushed at the pet name, and she fancied for a moment that he actually liked the lame name. She stepped back and promptly tripped on the hem.

She lost balance, arms windmilling before latching onto Elliott’s waistcoat as she began to fall backwards. Margaret took Elliott down with her in a terrific crash and a shout, bumping her head and possibly Elliott’s in the process. The fall took the wind from her, which made it all the more difficult to breathe with an Elliott on top of her.

Elliott raised himself, rubbing his forehead, “Are you okay?” His eyes ran over her, checking for injuries.

“I’ll be fine,” she stuttered out, acutely aware of everywhere they touched. Particularly the lower halves of their bodies, where their hips were very snugly positioned against each other. Margaret couldn’t help but flush, and looked down at herself to see the dress already part-way down her front.

Seeming to notice the same thing, Elliott’s face turned red as well, “I am starting to think this is a very elaborate attempt to seduce me, Margaret.” He did not move though, his hair curtaining them off from the outside.

She managed to crack a smile, her voice barely better than a squeak, “Is it working?”

Facing turning redder, Elliott sputtered out, “Well, when put that way - if it is indeed intentional - then I would answer with an honest yes. Hypothetically speaking, of course, since we are very good friends and I would not wish to ruin our friendship.” She couldn’t help but stare into his eyes as he rambled, fighting the urge to reach out and grab onto him above her.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Margaret swallowed, wondering what territory they had suddenly swum into. “It would not ruin our friendship if we did…”

Elliott stared at her, face unreadable. “We should-“

The sound of the front door opening cut him off, followed by a loud, “What a lovely farmhouse, don’t you agree Garrett?”

A sigh of frustration left Elliott’s lips and he gently thumped his head against the floor next to Margaret’s face. He rolled off of her and extended a hand to help her stand up, murmuring, “We should continue this conversation later. I shall make sure my parents do not poke around too much.” His face was still red and he ran his hand through his hair, “Thank you, again, for doing this. I fear I will be saying it a lot in these two weeks.”

“You’re welcome,” Margaret cleared her throat, attempting to hold the dress up and her dignity at the same time. “I’ll be out soon to make lunch, so don’t worry too much.”

Nodding, Elliott glanced at her for a second. Margaret paused, wondering if he would say anything else. He didn’t, and she watched as he walked through to the living room and kitchen to show his parents around.

Margaret let loose a shuddering breath and attempted to control her racing heart. That had been too close for comfort. She carefully took off Jodi’s dress and placed it in the dress bag to return later. Her moves were mechanical as she pulled on her usual flannel and overalls, mind replaying what had just happened. Had Elliott suggested he was attracted to her?

She opened her bedroom door with a too-wide smile to cry out, “So! Who wants lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the late update! Unfortunately, with vacation and school looming in the horizon, I am not sure how much time I will have to write. I'll still work on finishing this, don't worry, but I wanted to warn everyone so they aren't too disappointed if I'm not able to update every week.
> 
> Thanks for keeping up, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and have a lovely week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay awkward conversations about boundaries and consent! Margaret is a little sassy when tired. Elliott is still a smoothly awkward mofo

Collapsing face-first on the bed, Margaret groaned at her sore muscles. The rest of the day after the awkward fall had been busy. Between eating, moving some of Elliott’s many possessions, showing his parents the farm, and trying to not make a complete fool of herself, she was exhausted. 

Elliott stood in the doorway to her bedroom, looking increasingly unsure. The two of them had realized very recently (that day) that they would have to sleep in the same room to put up appearances. “I shall just make room on the floor to sleep.”

Turning her face to look at him, Margaret tried her best to not roll her eyes, “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose any more than I have,” Elliott trailed off, still searching for a soft spot on a hardwood floor. “I do not mind. Before I bought my bed, I slept on a sleeping roll placed on the ground.”

Margaret rolled onto her back, “Elliott. There is room on the bed. I am not letting you sleep on the floor while there is a perfectly serviceable amount of space on the bed.”

Elliott hesitated, glancing at the empty side of the bed, “But…”

“I’m not going to kick you in my sleep.” She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t have the energy to force you to sleep on the bed. If you decide to, this side is all yours. Never slept in. Now I am going to change into pajamas, crawl under the blanket, and pass out.”

Flushing bright red, Elliott looked away as Margaret began to change, too tired to give a proper shit that her crush stood five feet from her. “There’s still the matter of our earlier conversation to discuss.”

Somehow she had the energy to blush, “Don’t worry about it, Elliott. I shouldn’t have joked about that.”

“It is my wish to make myself clear, though,” Elliott cleared his throat, keeping his back to her as she changed. “I… do not get much out of having intercourse with someone I do not share a deep emotional bond with. In fact, I rather dislike it.”

Margaret blinked, sleep scattered from her thoughts as she hastily pulled on pajama shorts, “Okay. So… are you demisexual? I’m done changing, by the way.”

Whirling, Elliott looked at her in surprise and relief, “Yes, I wasn’t sure if you were familiar with the term! I did not wish to offend you.”

“Elliott,” Margaret smiled, “It’s okay, I’m not offended. I appreciate your honesty. I’m the same way with romantic relationships. If you’re really not comfortable being in the same bed as me, we can figure out a different solution tomorrow.” Sure, she felt hurt, but if he wasn’t into her there was nothing she could do. She wasn’t about to ask him to change himself just for her. That would be selfish, and Margaret knew better than most that you couldn’t change that part of yourself. You can’t pick and choose which parts of a person to love. You had to accept and love all of them. Unfortunately, Margaret definitely still loved him.

He let out a sigh, “Thank you, Margaret. I am comfortable, since it is you, so please do not worry for my sake.” Elliott paused a moment more, “I am hesitant to say this, but I did not explain myself fully.”

Tilting her head, Margaret sat back down on the bed, “You’re not about to tell me you have two dicks, right?”

Elliott sputtered, “Certainly not!” He composed himself, sitting down next to her and running a hand haphazardly through his hair. “When I kissed you yesterday, I was… pleasantly surprised.” She raised an eyebrow and wondered if it was meant to be such a backhanded compliment, but waited for him to continue. Their faces were both flushed, but if Elliott’s was from embarrassment or some other emotion, Margaret could not tell. “I truly did not intend to take it farther than the first kiss you requested.”

Shifting in her spot, Margaret was not sure where to look. She decided on the floorboards to save herself some embarrassment. She was acting no better than someone ten years younger than her, barely able to keep her heart in check. “If I made you uncomfortable in any way, I am so so-“

“Please, don’t apologize.” His voice was quiet as Elliott continued, “I enjoyed kissing you. I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but my enjoyment confused me. Earlier today made me wonder if… I would find enjoyment in doing more with you.” He breathed out, the sound shaky, “Am I wrong to think that you are sexually attracted to me?”

“No,” Margaret croaked out. Oh Yoba, she was so awkward. Here he was, being emotionally vulnerable and adult-like and she can’t even get one word out without sounding like a pubescent boy. She cleared her voice and tried again, “I am. Attracted to you. Sexually. Oh Yoba, I am not good at this sort of thing.”

Laughing breathlessly, Elliott reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, causing her to look at him. “I cannot say I am a master of this either.” Yet there was a small smile on his blushing face.

She was in such deep, unending shit.

“Elliott, I trust you. I have no experience, but if we want to… tread the waters of whatever is between us, I would commit to it.” Margaret took a deep breath, pushing her heart aside with unfortunate ease from years of practice. “If nothing comes of it, we will still be good friends. I won’t let something like sex come between our friendship, Elliott.”

He nodded, “I would never allow a dalliance to harm our friendship. And thank you for trusting me.”

Yawning, Margaret turned towards the bed. Despite their sudden agreement and her brain definitely wanting to party while crying, she was still exhausted and needed to sleep if she was ever going to wake up in the morning to take care of the farm. “Tonight is not a good time to start, though. I can’t do anything more than talk and sleep, which in my limited experience is not a mood maker.”

She was asleep before she could even hear Elliott’s response.

...

Shane nursed his mineral water, bitterly wishing it was something decidedly alcoholic. He sighed, thinking of Jas, before taking a sip from his glass.

“I’m happy for them,” Gus was cleaning a class as always, a smile on his face. “I couldn’t count the number of times Elliott stared after her as she left the saloon. Maybe his ale count is a close representation though!”

Pierre laughed with Gus, handling a rare Thursday evening drink. “Margaret bought a bouquet from me months ago. When I hadn’t heard anything, I assumed she did something else with it! The puppy eyes they would give each other in my store certainly fooled me. To think they were together this whole time?”

Oh yes, Shane had certainly been fooled all right. Yoba, why couldn’t things go his way just once?

“I definitely think some people were very let down by Monday’s news.” Gus hummed, placing the clean glass down in favor of one that must have had a smudge that only Gus could see. “On the other hand, hopefully things cheer up around here.”

Shaking his head, Pierre snorted, “Who knows? Perhaps in less than a year there will be another kid in the valley? That’ll get the old gossip mill going. Half the town already thinks there’s a little one on the way.”

Shane set the empty glass down hard, startling the few other occupants who had been listening in on the gossip. He fought to control the emotions on his face, feeling that dark pit of depression trying to make itself his friend. Nope, things definitely did not go his way. Yoba appeared to make it the mission to give him the middle finger and telling him to stick it up his ass at every possible chance.

“Another, please.”

...

The first thing Margaret noticed when she woke up was that she was really, really warm. After that, she realized very quickly that she and Elliott were tangled up together under the covers. Without moving, she tried to assess where exactly each of her limbs were, and quite frankly she was confused and definitely could not feel a few things. Despite this, she couldn’t help but look up at Elliott’s sleeping face.

It definitely was not fair that he was still handsome while sleeping. He was like a damn fairytale prince. Who even looks that good while sleeping?

Elliott let out a light snore, startling her for a moment. It broke the spell somewhat, allowing her to think without immediately going back to how lucky she was to be right where she was. This led her to remember last night’s conversation. Margaret really did agree to becoming friends with benefits. Well, that’s definitely going to hurt in the heart region. She thought further though. Never before had Margaret felt comfortable with being intimate with a person. Even if all this led to was heartbreak, at least she would have gained some valuable experience and know more about herself. Plus, she had to admit that this cuddling was very nice. Positive thinking would get her through this. Somehow.

Judging by the fact her alarm hadn’t gone off yet, Margaret had a little more time to enjoy this before dealing with the awkward reality of waking up in each other’s’ arms. She could try to extract herself, but Margaret was more likely to wake him up if she did. So she closed her eyes and nestled herself against his chest, listening to him breathing softly and the early morning birdsong.

She stayed there, soaking in the quiet before the busy day ahead of her. Margaret felt him stir in her arms and waited, wondering what people normally said in these sorts of situations. Good morning? Rise and shine? Hey, sorry if my head is really heavy and you can’t feel your arm?

Margaret tilted her head up to see if he was awake, meeting his very much awake eyes. Their faces were close. All she would need to do is move another couple of inches to be able to kiss him. She swallowed, mouth feeling dry as she murmured, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Elliott’s lips slipped into a small smile, “Much better than I suspect sleeping on the floor would have left me.” His voice was rough, vocal chords still waking up. He lifted his hand from her waist to scratch at his cheek, the stubble on his jaw whispering into the quiet. “Though I am perplexed as to how we ended up woven together.”

“I have no clue,” Margaret attempted to shrug and failed. “Your arm makes a very comfortable pillow though, so I am not complaining.”

He didn’t make a move to pull away, doing the opposite by pulling her closer, “Using me just for my body, hm?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she chuckled, snaking her arm around his waist. “You make a perfect bed warmer.”

Raising an eyebrow, Elliott smirked, “You should be careful what you say, I may just take you up on whatever you are offering.”

Margaret smiled, a flush working on rising to the surface, “I believe you already did last night.”

“So I did,” Elliott murmured. He was quiet for a moment, “What time is it?”

Craning her neck to look at the clock behind him, Margaret groaned, “It’s almost 5:30.”

Elliott hummed quietly, “There is no need to rush, then.”

“No, not really,” Margaret laid back down, giving a sigh of contentment when Elliott pulled her closer again. “Although, I do have a lot to get done today. Sebastian needs a fire quartz, there are some fences that look like they’re about to give out, and Cookies the cow is getting ready to give birth. There’s also all the crops to water and harvest, and I need to plow another plot for more melons. That’s not even mentioning-“

Laughing, Elliott rolled Margaret under him, “Do not think about those things yet. Give me a task to help you if that gives you a lighter load. How can I help make your morning easier?”

She squeaked up at him, surprised by his forwardness so early in the morning, “Well…” Margaret scrambled, sure to look like a huge dork as she stuttered, “A kiss? A kiss might be nice. Yeah. One of those.”

“How many kisses will it take for you to remember to take today easy?” Elliott’s smile was easy, even if there was a small amount of blush on his cheeks.

Oh Yoba. She was so smooth until people started being flirty with her. “Um… maybe ten?”

“Ten kisses, coming right up,” Elliott’s nose brushed against hers. He murmured, before giving her a quick kiss, “Sorry for the morning breath.”

She definitely was not about to complain, accepting the kisses Elliott rained on her. He lingered on the final one, deepening it. The kiss was slow, unhurried. Margaret reached up, cradling the back of his neck and tangling her fingers in his soft hair. The rumble of approval he let out caused her to curl her toes, a tingle running down her spine. Tentatively, she nipped at his lower lip lightly, feeling him smile against her lips before opening his mouth to her. Margaret knew she was clumsy, but Elliott allowed her to cautiously slide her tongue into his mouth. He surprised her by sucking on her tongue, a light moan escaping from her.

They continued lazily kissing, Margaret exploring more of the finer details of the craft. Eventually, they paused to breathe and take stock on their surroundings, Elliott rolling onto his side.

Elliott smoothed some of her hair away from her face, “Do you feel better now?”

“If your kisses were alcohol, I would definitely be at the point of drunk,” Margaret sighed, a giddy feeling in her head and chest. “So, yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Elliott smiled, and Margaret thought her heart could melt at how he looked. Lips swollen, hair positively a mess, and a definite amount of stubble on his cheeks accompanied by a shy smile. It was the most un-Elliott like image, but it was so endearing she could practically feel the cardiac tissue ooze from out of her chest. “I am considering taking my time introducing you to physical intimacy. It would be unkind of me to expect you to jump into the deep end after merely submerging your toes for the first time.”

She laughed, the sound making Elliott’s face go from shy to soft. “Thank you for putting so much thought into it, Elliott.” Margaret reached out, softly booping his nose, “If the mood strikes us, though, I will not expect you to hold yourself back. We’re doing this to make each other feel good, not just one person. As long as you are clean and we have protection, I am not concerned about my virginity.”

It was at that moment that Margaret’s alarm went off, a soft video game theme interjecting itself into their conversation. Sitting up to turn it off, Margaret sighed. Looks like the time to relax was over.

Elliott watched her get about getting ready, looking away while she was changing. He lounged, a pensive look on his face as she bustled about her room. “I can make breakfast while you start your tasks. Mother and Father are most likely to sleep for some time.”

“That would be great, thanks.” Margaret braided her hair and slapped on a wide brimmed hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. “All of my ingredients are in the fridge, and don’t be afraid to rummage through the cabinets for anything you need. I’ll be out taking care of the animals, so if you need me you might want to yell really loudly or come see me instead.”

Nodding, Elliott stood from the bed and began to stretch. Margaret paused, finally noticing that all he wore was a plain t-shirt and sweatpants to bed. She watched as Elliott stretched upwards, revealing a small strip of flat stomach and the beginnings of a happy trail. He grinned, noticing her attention, “Of course, if you prefer a different kind of breakfast…”

Flushing bright red, Margaret muttered some sort of excuse and escaped to her animals. Taking refuge in her furry friends, she wondered just how she was going to survive these two weeks if a strip of skin and an offer were enough to make her brain combust. Unfortunately, they did not provide any answers and merely nuzzled her in response. They were no help at all. It looked like she was on her own for this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the sake of me not having to completely think about the implications of a year being four months long instead of twelve months, let's just assume there are twelve months in a year. Trust me, it'll make things easier on all of our brains.
> 
> I wrote the last bit while pretty much half-asleep, so please forgive me for any weird things that happen.
> 
> ALSO check out Part One of the Cloudroad Farm series to see some quick art I did of my farmer and to get a lil more information on her. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, as always! Your words always make my week ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dots are connected and farming euphemisms are made

As usual, Margaret lost herself in her work. Keeping her hands busy had always been the key to getting her mind to settle down amidst the maelstrom of thoughts. No longer flustered, Margaret allowed herself to seriously contemplate where her relationship with Elliott was going. Friends with benefits really was the best description, she supposed.

She was scooping mayonnaise into their appropriate jars when Eleanor entered the coop. Looking up, Margaret smiled at her, “Good morning! Did Elliott send you out here to get me?”

“Yes, he did. Breakfast is ready,” Eleanor studied one of chickens, a contemplative look on her face.

Pausing for a moment, Margaret stood and brushed some of the hay from her jeans, “Do you want to hold her? She’s very friendly.”

“Sure,” Eleanor sounded a little skeptical, still watching the chicken strut nearby. “Is it safe for us to be handling them?”

“Plenty safe, if you wash your hands after,” Margaret laughed. She picked up a slightly reluctant chicken, demonstrating how to hold her before carefully passing her to Eleanor. The chicken quickly settling in her arms, looking around in mild curiosity from her new height. “They’re very sweet animals, in all honesty.”

Eleanor smiled, carefully moving to gently pet the chicken, “What’s her name?”

“Ah,” Margaret flushed, embarrassment washing over her, “I don’t have Elliott’s talent for naming things. She’s called Nic Cage. It’s supposed to be a joke about how she’s cage free, but it’s mostly ‘cause that was the first name that came to mind. Nic Cage certainly lives up to her namesake at times, though.”

Laughing, Eleanor startled the chicken into taking flight, which in turn startled Eleanor into screaming. Margaret quickly calmed both of them down, bright red with embarrassment. “What are the names of your other animals?”

Margaret scratched the back of her head, “Well, there’s Chuck the duck. Kua the cow, which literally translates to The Cow the cow from a language I studied in college. Cookies the cow, since milk and cookies are a nice treat. Shaun the sheep, after an old children’s movie. Yeet the chicken after a funny video I once saw. Adam Savage the chicken, because there was this guy named that that loved these chicken toys that would make really funny sounds. Naruto the chicken because she ran the same way as a character named Naruto when she was a chick. And Owen the goat after my brother, because… well, it’s a long story and you’ve got me rambling.”

Eleanor was almost bent over laughing, leaving Margaret hoping that she was not making a terrible fool of herself to Elliott’s mom. Once she caught her breath, Eleanor responded, “I can see why Elliott loves you. Silly boy takes things far too seriously sometimes. He needs someone who can make him loosen up and laugh. Don’t think we didn’t notice you are the mysterious Margaret in his book’s dedication. He means a lot to you, I can tell.”

Tucking a loose strand of hair over her ear, Margaret gave her a shy smile, “Thank you.” The praise was enough to lift her heart while simultaneously chucking it at a wall. “I used to be a lot more serious, before moving here from Zuzu City. Elliott and everyone here helped me so much, I can’t begin to repay them.”

Eleanor nodded emphatically, “I can certainly see that this life has done well by you out here. I’m beginning to understand why Elliott was so adamant about living here on his own. Something about the valley feels refreshing. Magical, maybe.”

Margaret thought about the creatures residing nearby and laughed nervously, “That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” She paused, allowing curiosity to slide into her, “Can I ask why you were so against Elliott being an author?”

Sighing, Eleanor picked up Yeet, cradling her, “Garrett and I own a bookstore in Zuzu City. We know plenty of authors, have gone to all of these different events with publishing companies, the like. We know a lot about publishing and book selling. So, we knew how hard it would be for him to succeed as an author and nothing else. We didn’t want him to get hurt and waste his life chasing a star. I know it sounds awful, and I do feel bad for not supporting him more, but I just didn’t want him to be crushed by the publishing industry.” Eleanor shook her head, “He certainly showed us. Published and thriving.”

“I see,” Margaret nodded. Once upon a time, she herself dreamed like Elliott had. She wasn’t going to tell Eleanor that, though. “Well, he did struggle at times, but he’s come out on top so far. Even if he falls, as long as you and his father are there for him and support him, I think he won’t be crushed. Not that easily.”

Eleanor gave her an appraising look, “Thank you. For being there for him when we weren’t.”

“Of course,” Margaret smiled. “By the way, which bookstore do you own?”

Seemingly glad for the change in conversation, Eleanor responded, “It’s a small independent bookstore on 43rd St. We named it Bookwyrm’s Lair way back before Elliott was born.”

Margaret blinked, “The one across the street from JoJo Mart Headquarters?”

“Yes, that’s us,” Eleanor grinned, “Why?”

“Oh Yoba,” Margaret shook her head, “I worked in the JoJo Mart Headquarters years ago. I would visit your bookstore after work every day, if only to look at the books and breathe in the smell.”

“Really?” Eleanor questioned, looking more closely at Margaret. Her eyes went round. “Wait, were you the woman with all the bright colored hair? Really pale?”

“Blue, pink, purple, silver – you name it, I had my hair that color at one point,” Margaret grinned. “It was my small rebellion against company code. No one cared enough to reprimand me about it, despite working in the legal division. I’m glad you remembered me, though!”

Eleanor covered her mouth with her hand, astonishment on her face, “Oh goodness. We need to go tell Elliott and Garrett about this.” She put the chicken down, grabbing Margaret’s wrist and tugging her towards the door.

Margaret went along, still slightly perplexed by how small the world could be sometimes. Who would’ve thought?

“Finally,” Garrett turned from his seat at the table as they entered, “I was wondering if the chickens took the two of you hostage and we would have to plan a heroic rescue.”

Elliott looked over to them, his eyes wandering to his mother’s hand around Margaret’s wrist. Momentary panic filled his eyes and he made eye contact with her. Margaret shrugged, just as confused as Elliott.

“Garrett,” Eleanor began, letting go of Margaret finally. “Do you remember the one woman who would come in around five-thirty every day and browse?”

“The sexy one Elliott had the hots for who looked like she could cut off your hand if you looked at her wrong, but had a smile that would make Michelangelo’s David weep?” Garrett glanced at Margaret, “Eli’s words, not mine. You know how poetic he can get.”

“Father!” Elliott cried, astonished beyond belief.

“Yes, her!” Eleanor was practically jumping up and down. “That was Peggy!”

Wait a moment.

Elliott and Margaret locked eyes. Two words entered her mind in that moment, because part of the reason she had always gone to the bookstore across from work was for the cute guy who worked there most evenings. The man who always gave her a sheepish smile from behind square glasses, hair pulled up in a bun, a moleskin tucked into the front pocket of the apron he wore and ink stains on his hands. The man she never saw again in the year before she left. The man whose nametag had read “Eli.”

Those two words were “holy”, and “fuck”, in that order.

“You’re kidding,” Garrett blinked. 

“I have pictures in the library. Room across from yours upstairs,” Margaret said absently. “Feel free to go check.”

Elliott’s parents took the invitation, certainly noticing the staring contest currently going on between the newlyweds. They were whispering as they went up the stairs, and Margaret waited until she heard the door close.

Licking her lips, Margaret looked away first, “So… I guess that makes you that Eli?”

“Yes,” Elliott blushed furiously. “I cannot reconcile with the fact I never recognized you.”

“I didn’t recognize you either, if it makes you feel better,” Margaret pointed out, crossing her arms. “The hair probably tripped you up. Plus, it had been about a year or so.”

Elliott nodded absentmindedly, still staring at her like he could see the old Margaret under the dirt and lack of cosmetics. “I suppose so…”

There was a few awkward moments, before Margaret admitted, “Part of the reason I visited so often was for you, you know.” The vulnerability she exposed scared her. 

Stepping around the table, Elliott came to stand before her, hand scratching the back of his neck, “I worked so many evenings hoping to see you.” He laughed, “I never did get the nerve to ask for your number.”

She could still see the awkward young man in him, warming her heart. She was so totally doomed. Smiling, Margaret looked back into his eyes, “I never got the nerve to give you my number, and then you were gone.”

“Provenance works in mysterious ways, does it not?” Elliott chuckled awkwardly.

“Elliott,” Margaret blurted out, “If it weren’t for several hurdles like your parents and me being covered in feathers, I would drag you into my bedroom for a long while.”

Eyes widening, Elliott’s hand dropped from his neck, “That is… surprisingly forward of you.”

“It’s a morning for surprises,” Margaret mumbled, immediately embarrassed. “Besides, how could I resist you after being described as being able to make David weep?”

Elliott laughed, “It sounds better from you than my father.” He stepped closer, placing a careful hand on her cheek, “I must admit your offer is tempting.”

“Yeah?” Margaret stuttered, tilting her face closer to his, leaning into the warmth of his hand. “Are the feathers stopping you?”

He kissed her, leaving her lightheaded when he pulled away. “As much as I would love to devour you instead, breakfast is getting cold.”

“You wicked, beautiful man.” Sighing, Margaret realized she was getting used to his comments, no longer feeling immediately flustered. “Now I will be left with that image for the rest of the day, distracting me when I should be working.”

“What could I do to help such a distracted farmer, then?” Elliott raised a smug eyebrow, “Perhaps me plowing your fields?” His hands slowly circled around her, sliding into the back pockets of her jeans and pulling her against him. “Checking for ripe fruit?” 

Moaning lightly, Margaret bit her lip. “Elliott, I swear if you keep going like that you will not have a problem watering whatever seeds you sow.”

Leaning down, Elliott gave her a light kiss and a smile, “And every word from your lips has the same effect on me.”

Oh, she could definitely tell, and she was definitely blushing from feeling him against her. “It really is too bad we have to eat this delicious breakfast you made for us. We might’ve been able to do something about our problems.”

Elliott sighed, “A terrible shame. Perhaps I should have planned ahead.”

“Unless you can read the future, I doubt you could have planned for unexpected revelations,” Margaret shook her head. “We just have to have a small rain check.”

“I suppose so,” Elliott gave a slightly crooked smile, “I thought I was excited about our agreement before.” There was a glint in his eye as he brought her closer to whisper in her ear, “Now I am positively aroused.”

She shivered at his words, but bit back a laugh at how dramatic he could be, “Yes, yes, we want to fuck. We have to get through the day, my dear poet.” Margaret gave him a quick kiss on the nose, making him wrinkle his nose in shock. “So unless you want your parents to see you at half-mast, you better start thinking of Mayor Lewis.”

Grimacing, Elliott shivered in a completely different way from when Margaret had seconds before. “Please, no need to tell me twice. Although, I have to admit that was not even near half-mast.”

Oh.

He laughed at her expression and stepped back, “Breakfast is already on the table.”

“Perfect,” Margaret recovered, sitting down before a veritable feast. “Let’s hope your parents return before the food is cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time, since I am currently on vacation with my family and am running low on down-time to write naughty things. I promise the next chapter will be a lot more fun :)
> 
> Your comments and kudos bring so much joy to my heart, and I always look forward to seeing them! Thank you all so much for your support!
> 
> (Also yes, that is actually what I named my animals in my game. I'm real bad with on-the-spot naming, man.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they enter the realm of 18+!
> 
> Just a friendly reminder that consent is important and that fan fic is not an accurate representation of sex, folks!

To say that Margaret was distracted throughout the day would be an understatement. With their implied agreement to “water some seeds” that night, it was all she could do to not seem like a semi-nervous wreck. Worrying about what would happen made her almost drive a hammer into her hand as she repaired fences. She had to take a moment to get outside of her head and focus back on the farm, getting the work done quickly in order to have time to talk to a few friends. Unfortunately, they did not help her feel any better. Instead, when she sent them a picture of Elliott, they all responded in caps telling her to get it or they would be mad at her for passing such a hot guy up. Definitely did not help her feel any better about her inexperience or the fact that she was hopelessly head over heels for him.

Tired and sore, Margaret wandered back into her house with a sigh before dinner. Luckily, it appeared that Elliott was alone in the kitchen, making her question for him all the easier to ask. 

He greeted her from where he sat, book in one hand and a pen resting on a notebook in the other. “Was your work fruitful, today?”

Dropping into the chair next to him, Margaret slouched back, feeling the ache in her lower back from bending over all day. “Tiring, as usual. Cookies is still ready to pop out her calf any day now. Fences needed repairs. I’m still not sure if the new hive I’ve set up of bees is taking to the queen. Might have to contact an old colleague about it. Same old, same old.” She blew some of her bangs away from her face, “How was your day, though? Where are your parents?”

“They took it upon themselves to go out to the saloon tonight.” Elliott placed a slight emphasis on the first word, following it with a light chuckle. “I believe my father’s words were something to the effect of ‘Let’s get out of the newlyweds house.’”

She blinked, processing the information that her in-laws did not want to be in the house because they thought Elliott and her were going to fuck like crazy. It caused her to blush a little, as that is kind of what was likely going to happen. “That was… thoughtful of them.”

Laughing, Elliott placed the book and pen down, “It does come upon them to be considerate of others at times.” He stood from his chair, walking over to the fridge, “I shall cook dinner, as you look positively drained at the moment. What would you like?”

“Thanks, Elliott. Perhaps some sort of stir fry, something with meat and veggies, please?” Margaret sighed, trying to force herself to appear more awake. “I am going to shower, cause I am absolutely disgusting right now.”

“Go ahead. With luck, dinner should be ready when you are done,” Elliott began taking food out of the fridge, his back turned to her.

Turning to go, Margaret paused and faced him again, trying her best to not stutter. “I almost forgot, but I have a question for you, Elliott,” she swallowed, thinking of the only real advice her friends had given her. When he responded, she managed to get out, “Is there any particular - um - style you – well - prefer when it comes to… body hair down there?”

Elliott paused, then returned to placing the red pepper on the counter. “Whatever you are comfortable with doing, Margaret.” He leaned against the counter, looking bashful as he combed hair out of his face, “I am attracted to you, not how you choose to style your body hair.”

Smiling, she reached out to tuck a strand of hair left by his hands behind his ear, “What a gentleman. Is there really nothing you prefer?”

“Only to have you comfortable,” Elliott’s smile was almost tender, the smallest blush on his face, “However, I would not be opposed to slight trimming.”

Struggling to not roll her eyes at how corny her faux husband was, Margaret rose on her toes to give him a peck on the lips, “I’ll try to not take too long in the shower.” She lowered herself, hands on his shoulders to keep her steady, “Sorry for the sweaty kiss. It’s very hard to resist you when you’re corny in the most charming way possible.”

“Corn would be good in the stir fry,” Elliott muttered under his breath, then smiled down at her, “I shall endeavor to be charming tonight, if that is what you desire.”

“What I desire,” Margaret swallowed, keeping eye contact with him, “Is all of you. No holding back for my sake.” In a moment of blind boldness, she let herself press against him, “You did promise to plow my fields, after all.”

Elliott managed to keep a straight face, though Margaret swore he almost trembled, “Now you are just teasing me, my daisy.” 

Chuckling, Margaret stepped away, “Maybe a little. But I’m serious. Now, I really need to go shower.”

“Yes, go, you sweaty temptress! Before you distract me from preparing dinner and we go hungry!” Elliott flourished, turning back around to the fridge.

Margaret chuckled a little more and left, unable to see how bright red Elliott’s face had become and the blind amazement in the look he cast after her. Nor could she hear the small sigh, accompanied by him muttering why he had to fall for someone so oblivious.

...

“Have I ever mentioned how great you are at cooking?” Margaret pushed the semi-full plate away from her, “My mouth is telling me to keep eating this delicious food, but I’m afraid if I eat any more my stomach will definitely not be happy with me.”

“Do not force yourself to eat more,” Elliott laughed, already in the process of putting the leftovers in the fridge. “We need to let the food settle before we do anything, so that we do not upset ourselves.”

She paused to contemplate that statement, “I suppose that does make sense.” Still, Margaret stood to help him clean. “So, it is like not swimming right after you eat?”

“According to such wise and honorable sex gurus that appear from a single Google search, it is,” Elliott smirked.

Snorting, Margaret rolled her eyes, “If we all followed the advice of internet sex gurus, there would be many more accidental pregnancies and unsatisfied partners.”

“Perhaps we should not stand on the shoulders of giants, if there is more between their legs than their ears,” Elliott mused with a sarcastic curl to his mouth, rolling up his sleeves to begin attacking the dirty dishes.

Margaret considered the possible consequences of what she was about to say and hurled them out the window, “I agree. I’d rather have my legs thrown over your shoulders anyways.”

He seemed stunned for a moment, before asking, “What training have you endured to become so smooth?”

“I’m shocked that you don’t think I’m this naturally smooth,” she grinned and began to scrub away at the pan. “But really, I read a lot. Also watch quite a bit of porn, since I am more single than a pigeon in a flock of flamingos.”

His eyebrows rose high, “So, you’re not a complete blushing virgin?” Elliott took the pan as she handed it to him, drying it quickly.

“Oh, I totally am. I can barely think as soon as you touch me in a non-platonic way.” Margaret admitted, shocking herself for her openness. “I have no clue how I’m going to react when you touch me.”

That brought a smile to his face, “I think I should thank you for the compliment? Do not overthink it. Merely tell me if you like something I do.”

“It’s really that simple?” she hesitated to ask.

“It’s really that simple,” Elliott shrugged.

Margaret coughed, “Well, that’s easier than I thought it would be. Do people typically plan what they’re going to do?” Oh goodness, there were fewer and fewer dishes by the second. She was washing them too fast. She was going to have to look him in the face soon. Oh Yoba.

“Unless you are wanting to do something elaborate, not in my limited experience,” Elliott responded, taking a moment to think. “As I mentioned before, there is no need to overthink it.” 

“I’m sorry I’m asking all of these questions,” she started, embarrassment striking her. “I just am not very good without directions or expectations. Like where do I put my foot? What about my hands? What if I-“

“Margaret,” Elliott’s voice sounded bemused, causing her to look up at him. 

He leaned down and gave her a gentle, if thorough kiss. Her thoughts stopped in the vicious cycle in her mind and she relaxed. Elliott tugged her closer, one hand lightly against the back of her head. She responded by wrapping one very wet hand into his waistcoat, sighing into the kiss.

Pulling away, Elliott brushed a thumb over her lips, “Nerves are not a bad thing. It means you care. Despite that, we really should finish these dishes, should we not?”

“This is the last one,” Margaret swallowed, handing the plate to Elliott. She watched him dry the dish and set it aside, handing the towel to dry her hands as he turned to face her.

An air of seriousness passed over the two of them, Elliott quietly asking, “Are you positive you desire this?”

She gave him the courtesy of thinking it through, waiting for a moment to respond. “I don’t think I’ve desired someone as much as I have you… but only if you will have me.”

“I will take whatever you give me.” He murmured into the closing space between them, “And be honored by your generosity.”

Margaret looked into his face, trying to read anything that might betray a lie or something more. Her eyes glanced over it all – his blush that ran across cheeks and nose, the slightly parted lips, his already dilating pupils surrounded by green. Before they could come any closer to each other, Margaret took his hand. Heart beating wildly in her chest, she shyly pulled him from the kitchen to her – their bedroom. Elliott shut the door behind them, the lock clicking into their silence. She continued to pull him to the bed until they were both seated, staring at each other with quiet intensity. He didn’t move, seemingly waiting for her to make the first move.

Carefully, she lifted herself onto her knees, one hand going to cradle the side of his face as she moved in to kiss him. Margaret saw the smile on his lips as he tilted his head back and felt a hand come to rest against her hip. All she could hear was her heart and their breathing. She wondered if his heart was beating as loudly as hers did in his own head. She hoped that she had washed off all of the smell of sweat, as she once again noticed the smell of his cologne.

They kissed similar as to how they had that morning. It was slow, steady, and deliberate. Margaret unsure of how to progress, and Elliott afraid to push her too fast. As she threaded her hands into his long hair, she felt the need to go faster, to cling to him and whatever connection they had. Elliott responded, pulling her into his lap. His sigh broke the silence between them, ushering the two to grow more passionate. Tongues were introduced, and contrary to popular believe, did not battle for dominance. Learning from Elliott’s earlier move, she sucked lightly on his tongue after inviting him in. He in turn moaned lightly, speeding up the frequency of his kisses.

Now, with no more distractions, Margaret turned to her instincts. She felt his hands caressing her through her clothes and wanted more. Pulling away briefly, she practically sensed the slight objection Elliott managed to not voice, his focus instead returning to the path he had been tracing two days ago down her neck. A sharp intake of breath from her accompanied as Elliott lightly sucked and kissed all the way down to the crook of her shoulder.

“Please, Elliott,” she wasn’t sure if she was begging or moaning, or somewhere in between. 

She felt his hands sneak under her flannel, smoothing up her back and down. Elliott hummed against her skin, a smile on his lips. “What, my daisy?”

Shuddering at the tone of his voice and his continued kissing, Margaret collected her thoughts enough to say, “Touch me.”

There was almost a purr to his voice as he suggested, “Then assist me in taking off this shirt of yours.”

“Why stop at my shirt?” Margaret sighed, hands slipping from his shoulders to the buttons of her flannel, helping him quickly divest her of the shirt. 

His fingers paused on the button of her jeans, withdrawing slightly, “I do not see why not. Help me as well? I want to feel you.”

Margaret swallowed, some of her embarrassment returning. “I do too.” Her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she worked on his waistcoat. He helped with the tie and belt, leaving the dress shirt to her. She smoothed the shirt off of his shoulders and arms, hands running down his chest. A very appreciative part of her reveled in how well cut he was, despite the amount of sitting he must do as an author.

Hands slipping into her now open jeans, Elliott began to help her slide the material over her skin. It was difficult sitting up however, and Margaret decided to lay down to make the process that much easier. Elliott paused after removing the jeans from her, his eyes sweeping over her in a way that had her flushing, but refusing to back down. Instead, she pulled him down to her, their lips finding each other. One arm bracing himself from crushing her, Elliott’s free hand skimmed across her ribs, just under the band of her bra. She lifted her hips to his, brushing against the growing erection that left Elliott and her moaning. Responding in kind, Elliott ground down onto her core, hand bracing himself on her hip and she spread her legs wider for him. Her hands traced the muscles and bones in his back, letting out appreciative sounds at the contact between them sending tingles up her spine. 

Pausing in his grinding, Elliott pulled away to look down at her, “Is this okay?” He tried to brush his hair behind his ear, failing magnificently.

“More than okay,” Margaret nodded enthusiastically, “It already feels great.”

“We shall have to raise those standards of yours,” Elliott chuckled, shifting from one arm to the other. “Do you want to do more?”

She crossed her ankles behind his back, locking him in, “If you think I want to stop here, then you have another thing coming, Mr. Cloudroad.”

He laughed, the sound a warmth to her soul, “You are full of surprises, Margaret. Can you let me go, so I can take off these pants?”

“I suppose I could do that,” Margaret mused, waiting to free him from her legs. “For such a noble cause.” She slipped her hands between them, brushing her knuckles across the button of his pants.

“Unless you have other plans?” Elliott raised an eyebrow, despite the shudder that passed through him. 

She bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed and met his eyes, “Is that okay?”

He smiled, “More than okay, my daisy. Go ahead and explore, but perhaps in a more comfortable position?”

“Of course,” Margaret murmured, letting him go. She followed him as he got on his knees, hesitantly reaching out to the tent in his pants and unbuttoning that top button. He didn’t move as she unzipped them either, only rising to help her take off the pants, revealing his black trunks straining against his erection. Both of them were flushed, but Margaret still reached out to trail her fingers down him, feeling him through the cloth. 

Elliott let out a loud breath, his eyes roaming between her face and fingers as she slowly cupped him. Margaret wanted to actually feel him though, see what his dick looked like and felt in her hand, and so she hesitantly hooked her fingers into the waistband of his underwear. He nodded slightly when she glanced up, burying his hands in the sheets. Before she could lose her nerves, she pulled the underwear down, letting him spring out and at attention.

She hummed in appreciation. While Margaret has never seen a dick in real life, there was a time she studied art, which unfortunately meant occasionally looking at nude men. It helped her gauge how big he was, and she was not disappointed. Gently, she curled her fingers around his erection, taking some pleasure in the rush of breath he took. “Show me what to do.”

With a shuddering breath, Elliott placed his own hand over hers, tightening it slightly. He murmured out directions, his hand guiding her as she gently jerked him off. They had to pause for a moment, searching for lube, before resuming. Quickly, she was able to have him panting, eyes shut and head thrown back as he thrusted lightly into her hand.

Sure there was a mischievous glint in her eye, Margaret asked him, “Tell me how to pleasure you with my mouth.”

Eyes snapping open, Elliott gaped at her for a moment. She felt him twitch in her hand, smiling to herself. “You do not need to, Margaret.”

“I want to,” Margaret replied, taking her hand off of him, “Do you want me to?”

He smiled uneasily, “Perhaps another time.”

Trying to not let surprise show on her face, Margaret nodded, returning her hand to his erection and once again began to pleasure him, “Another time, then.”

Elliott pulled her into a kiss, causing her to straddle one of his thighs. As they kissed, he worked on removing her bra and sliding it off, determined to return the favor. She arched into his palm, surprised by how sensitive her breasts were. Margaret gasped loudly when Elliott snuck his other hand into her underwear, fingers carefully circling between her clit and opening. She had to remember to keep her hand moving, the other clutching to Elliott’s shoulder as she tried to grind down on his hand. Still, he never directly touched her clit or went into her. It was enough to drive her mad. So, in response, she worked twice as hard to get him off, pulling away and kissing along his jaw.

“Margaret,” his voice was strained, “I am close.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Margaret murmured against his throat, wondering what his endurance must be for sex.

“Yoba no. If you were to cease I would…” His voice was cut off by a moan as Margaret sped up, “I would… oh fuck it, please keep going!” Elliott gave up trying to pleasure her, instead focusing on her touch. Her free hand brushed against his nipples, trying to see what would send him over the edge. She felt him buck into her hand at that, and so she repeated the gesture. Reaching towards her, Elliott brought her into a searing kiss that almost distracted her from the task at hand. She kept going, ignoring how tired her arm and wrist was getting, waiting for him to release. Finally, Margaret felt him stiffening against her, a strangled sound coming from his lips as his seed splattered across their chests.

Removing her hand from his now sensitive skin, Margaret kissed the corner of his lips as he breathed in deeply, riding out the post-orgasm high. She touched some of the pearlescent semen on her breast, feeling the odd texture and smell. Slowly, she pulled away from Elliott’s arms in search of some tissues to clean themselves off. They would wipe down properly later, but for now it would do. 

“Come here,” Elliott said as he saw what she was doing. He took the tissues, wiping himself off. “It is your first time ever doing something like this, and yet I was the first to come. It is simply unacceptable.”

Margaret chuckled, following Elliott’s hands as he pushed her to lie down. “Don’t complain. You looked like you needed it more than I do.”

His eyes flashed, a smirk curling the corner of his lips, “We shall see about that.” Elliott placed a hand on her hip, holding her down as he began to kiss her collarbone and down. His lips went to her breast, and Margaret took in a deep breath as she felt his, hot and wet, against her nipple. Her toes and fingers curled into the sheets as he began to shower attention onto each breast, the one not being kissed and licked being kneaded by his palm. Never had Margaret been so glad for the size of her breasts, his hand barely able to contain the flesh there.

“Oh, Elliott, fuck,” was as she could get out, and sometimes in that precise order. Margaret whimpered when he stopped, but quickly stifled it when his lips continued lower, and lower, until he was down between her legs, eyeing her like a treat after removing her underwear. Those words were repeated, not in that order and infinitely louder, when his tongue made contact, a broad sweep across her core. The hand not holding her down opened her to him, allowing him more access.

His tongue was definitely good at more than just spilling poetry, and Margaret was very glad that his parents were not home to hear her almost shout when Elliott began to suck on her clit. She definitely shouted when he added his fingers to the mix, beginning the process of stretching her out slowly. Margaret urged him on, the pleasure she felt considerably outweighing her shame of being so vocal.

“Elliott, I’m so close, please,” Margaret whimpered, looking down at him. So close to that edge, so close to that relief. She wanted it, and Yoba was it going to be good.

Glancing up, Elliott made eye contact with her, the smile she felt against herself mirrored in his eyes. He sped up the once gentle thrust of his fingers in her just as his tongue did the same. It was enough to put her over the edge, back arching as she felt herself both tighten and relax, her mind blank in the best way. And there Elliott was, helping her draw it out with lazy swipes of his tongue against her clit, trying to not stimulate her too much. He withdrew as she returned to Earth, lying next to her and tracing lines between the many moles on her body and placing a kiss on her brow.

Margaret breathed in deep, mind still a little hazy from the orgasm before she realized it was not just the feeling of post-orgasm making her eyes blurry. “That was… incredible. I don’t think I’ve felt that good in years.” Exhaustion weighed on her mind, even as she worked to focus on his smiling face.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Elliott pulled her into him, seemingly willing to cuddle. “Are you up for more, or...?”

“I…” Oh Yoba did she want to say yes, but her eyes were beginning to shut without her permission. “I’m sorry, I think I’m too tired to right now.”

“Do not concern yourself with that, there is always tomorrow,” Elliott himself seemed fairly exhausted, the time between his blinks shortening. “Go ahead and sleep.”

She almost protested, but she was so comfy and was still slightly on a post-orgasm high. Margaret smiled, then burrowed herself into his warm chest. “Thank you, Elliott.”

The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was his yawn, accompanied by him muttering, “And thank you, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts for if you're bored: look up the French meaning for the name Margaret (Marguerite, to be precise) and then what daisies represent. You're welcome.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait everyone! I am just getting back into the swing of things for my final year of college, which means tons of homework. I will do my best to keep up and continue updating, but if I do not update every week like I used to, you can probably blame my environmental justice and law course.
> 
> On the topic of school - school leaves me poor as dirt. If you like my content and want to help me buy groceries, I would love any donations you could make. I hate asking for money, but it is the unfortunate nature of the poor college student. You can find my donation page here -> https://ko-fi.com/introvertedpeg
> 
> If you're not interested in just donating money, I also do have drawing commissions open! Relatively cheap, with the highest base price before fancy stuff being $45. If you're interested and want to see more of my art, feel free to drop me a line!
> 
> Thank you everyone, and I hope you have a great week!! ♥


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and sexytimes. 5.3K words and that's what you get.
> 
> Serious note: There is a flashback to sexual harassment and attempted assault. If that is something you don't like, you will want to skip to three ellipses marking the end of the dream. If you're still uncomfortable, I can totally upload the second half of the chapter as a separate chapter. Thanks! ♥

The dream started out crystal clear, memories pulling the scene into the dream. She was back at JoJo Mart Headquarters. Margaret almost recognized the memory, but the haze of sleep fogged her brain.

“Once again, I’m very sorry we could not do more to help you with your claim. Goodbye now,” Margaret slapped a layer of fake enthusiasm to her voice, even as her stomach turned in an all-too-familiar way at her lies. The click of her phone hitting its cradle felt like another nail in her coffin, even as she pressed some buttons to save the recording to her files. Sinking down in her chair, Margaret sighed loudly with her hands pressed against her face. This is what she deserved for selling her soul to such a corrupt and disgusting company. Not able to help innocent and unfortunate people who needed her help.

There was some quiet footsteps that stopped right outside of her cubicle, and Margaret hoped they would move on in vain. “Why the long sigh, Margaret?”

The voice slid like toxic sludge over her skin, the false concern pressing down into her pores. Looking up, Margaret met the eyes of her supervisor and straightened up. “Sorry, sir. There’s no need to be concerned, it will not impact my work.”

“Is your boyfriend giving you problems again?” The tips of his already bulldoggish mouth slid farther down, eyes leering over her. “You’re too pretty to have a child drag down your career, Margaret.”

“Of course, Mr. Golsilv, I won’t let my personal life affect my time here.” Margaret tried to school her face into the mask of impenetrable cold she had adopted in her time at JoJo Mart. Tried to ignore the lie of her having a boyfriend slipping past her lips again. Tried to ignore the lingering looks on the buttons of her blouse that she knew were bulging out, threatening to pop off. She should’ve worn a different blouse. Should have worn a turtleneck. 

He leaned further into her cubicle, hands palm up as if he was offering peace, “I am only making sure you will be happy here. I’m always willing to meet after hours if you require advice.”

Bile rose in her throat, but Margaret managed to keep her face carefully neutral, “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Golsilv. I could not possibly imagine taking up more of your time, you must be so busy with your eldest daughter getting ready for her graduation soon. Undergraduate, correct?”

The careful glint in his eye died out, and Mr. Golsilv leaned back out, “Yes. Indeed. How nice of you to remember, Miss Cloudroad. Good job with the last caller, you did a splendid job dodging the legal framework. A claim like theirs could have cost the company thousands.”

“It is my job, Mr. Golsilv. Thank you,” Margaret turned back to her monitor, trying to cut off the conversation before she thought she would be sick. He walked away without another word.

She managed to get through the rest of her work shift without throwing up or being harassed again, quickly gathering her belongings before another person could try to talk to her. Margaret strode down the carpeted row of cubicles, hoping none of the men she worked with would step out. Into the hallway she escaped, wincing at the loud sounds of her heels clicking against the laminate flooring. Tersely, she tugged her skirt lower over her knees from where it had been rising up.

Passing by a group of men she barely recognized as working in the same department as her, Margaret felt their cold glances run over her. Making eye contact with one, she swore his eyes glinted black with ill intent. She refused to speed up, to make it seem like she had noticed. Swallowing, she straightened up more, drawing her shoulders back and plastering that cold and bitchy look onto her face. She heard the three of them quietly begin to follow her, whispers pointed at her back. Human resources was going to have a fucking field day when she was done.

By now her heart was thundering, wondering if she should chance the elevator or the stairs. No one used the stairs, so it would be easy to corner her there. The elevators had cameras in them, so even if she was alone with them they were unlikely to do anything. She entered the elevator, punching the bottom floor and trying to not wince as the young men slid in before the door could close.

“So Margaret,” one of the men drawled, his frat-perfect brown hair shining in the elevator mirrors. “We heard you’re having problems with a boyfriend. I was surprised to hear you had one, considering how much of a bitch you are.”

The other snickered, straight, lawyer-white teeth flashing, “Oh don’t be so rude, Kurt. Surely Margaret has plenty of other attractive qualities other than her personality.”

The last mumbled under his breath, the sweat on is nose and forehead practically blinding, “He’s probably a pussy and likes to be treated that way.”

Studiously ignoring them, Margaret watched the floor numbers slowly decreased, wondering if anyone would get on the elevator and stop their harassment. What disgusting pigs. Her mouth thinned, the dark lipstick disappearing.

“Wow, the least you could do is respond to your coworkers,” Kurt moved from the periphery of her vision. “Trying to make pleasant is what people do.” Suddenly he was looming over her, one hand slamming against the wall behind her and the other snaking around her waist to grab at her ass, “After all the time we’ve spent together, it’s at least a common courtesy.”

She froze, mind going carefully blank as feeling left her body. She forced herself to meet his eyes; that wicked smile. Channeling the feelings of bitchiness they seemed to think she was made of, Margaret purred, “Oh, I know just what kind of pleasantries you want to make, Kurt. I bet you dream of me sucking your cock, watching the Bitch of the Office take your load deep down her throat. Oh, I bet you and your friends want to all put me in my place, trying to see which one could make the bitch crack.” In the background, she watched the elevator reach the ground level, knowing her time with them was up. Carefully, she grabbed his hand from her ass, surprising him with the strength at which she was able to wrench it away from her. Her thumbnail dug into the inside of his wrist, causing him to grunt. “Sadly, if you ever think of trying me, you will find yourself deep down a rabbit’s hole of litigations. Now if you and your friends will excuse me, I am going to go try and forget what you said about my boyfriend and my personal life. It would be best for the three of you to go on and never talk to me again, or you will find out how much of a bitch I can be.”

All three of them bristled, and Kurt began to snarl as the door of the elevator opened. Margaret swiftly dodged around them as they froze, unsure what to do, and exited the facility. Her knees were shaking and she felt like she was going to throw up, and she quickly looked for somewhere to quickly go and hide. Running across the street, Margaret spotted the bookstore she had checked out a few times. Swallowing, she opened the door and practically ran inside.

The smell of books hit her, almost calming her down enough to walk normally. The bookstore was nice, with high bookcases full of colorful spines and numerous genres of books. She heard soft piano music playing in the background, knowing that it came from an old phonograph playing a record. Pausing for a moment, Margaret walked as far back as she could into the store, thanking that it was mostly empty so that she would hide in a corner and calm herself. 

Stopping herself short as she turned the corner, Margaret almost ran into one of the workers. She looked up into friendly green eyes that seemed to spark in recognition and almost laughed at herself. Of all the men to run into right now, it had to be the one she crushed hard on. Her emotions felt like they were suffering from whiplash as she saw his awkward, but friendly smile and almost started crying.

Eli brushed a few stray strands of auburn hair behind his ear, adjusting his glasses and frowning slightly as he took notice of her appearance, “Is… everything okay?”

Her lip quivered, “No.”

A line between his eyebrows formed as his frown deepened, “It is not my place to ask however, is there anything I could do to help?”

“Um,” Margaret focused on breathing, her brain too full of adrenaline to think properly. She closed her eyes, ruffling her hands through her hair so as to free strands of silvery blue into her face. “Could you just check outside and see if there are three men in business suits wandering around the street?”

If his frown could deepen, it would, and Eli took a second look at her, as if trying to check for any tears in her clothing. He made a move to touch her shoulder but appeared to think better of it, “Do you want me to call the police?”

Taking a deep breath, Margaret sighed out, “No.” When she saw him give her an unsure look, she explained, “We work for the same company. There… should be security footage. I’ll file a report with human resources.”

He nodded after a moment of hesitation. “Stay back here. Did they touch you?”

Looking at the anger flickering behind those glasses, Margaret felt a little safer. Safe enough to admit, “Yes.”

Eli licked his lips and was gone to the front of the store, hands bunched at his sides. She heard the door distantly open and close, the bell tinkling like glass. She found a chair and sat down as she waited for him, pulling her briefcase against her and curling up to try and settle her nerves. The door opened, and closed, followed by footsteps and the creaking of floors.

“They appear to be down the street,” Eli crouched down to stay eye-level with her. “At least I assume that’s them. Are you comfortable telling me what happened…?”

Margaret straightened again, tucking hair behind her ear nervously. “They cornered me in an elevator. They started talking shit about my boyfriend, who doesn’t even exist. I tell coworkers I have a boyfriend so they don’t try these kinds of things. The one grabbed my ass and tried to block me from leaving. I talked back and was able to get away and came here.” Her eyes left the floor, “My name is Peggy, by the way. It’s weird that I’ve never introduced myself after the number of times I’ve come in here.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. If you wait about two more hours, I can drive you if you’re afraid to go home on your own.” Eli’s voice was warm and comforting, steadying her and helping her recenter herself.

The edges of the dream seemed to fuzz out the memory, as Margaret swore that she did the opposite of what she did in the dream. In reality, she had politely turned him down and left after half an hour. What came out of her mouth was instead, “I would like that. Thank you. Sorry for the bother.”

“It would be more of a bother to hear of something bad happening to you,” Eli’s awkward smile peeked out of the corners of his mouth. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Margaret tried to stand and found she couldn’t, and so blushing and stumbling over her words, she hesitantly asked, “Could you help me stand up? My legs aren’t working for some reason.”

There was a bit of concern laced into his smile as Eli nodded, “Of course.” He stood, extending a hand to her and pulling her up. In a typical dreamlike fashion, Margaret stumbled into his arms. Instinctively he steadied her by pressing his hands against the small of her back, keeping her against him. His face was flushed, like hers, and he lifted a single eyebrow, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Margaret tried to not stare into his eyes, but goodness they were a beautiful color. They reminded her of green glass. “I should be fine after a moment.”

Eli’s smile widened, “That’s good. I need to keep an eye on the register, so how about I walk you to the front?”

She gave him a tentative smile, “I think I can manage that.”

With an air of gentlemanly-ness, Eli scooped her briefcase up from where it had been on the floor, placing her arm in the crook of his elbow to give her something to lean on, and guided her around back to the front. Margaret tried to control her emotions, feeling absolutely ridiculous going from terrified to love struck. She didn’t get loves truck. Yet here she was, having the longest conversation with Eli that she has ever had beyond book recommendations and him asking for her money.

The bookstore distorted in her dream, and she was suddenly at the front of the bookstore and sitting on the counter, Eli in sitting in front of her on a chair. He was reading to her, his ink-stained hands wrapped carefully around his moleskin. She couldn’t hear him, in an odd, dreamlike sense of reality. She had a sense that what he was saying something terribly romantic, but her brain refused to fill in the blank. Somewhere in her dream she could still hear the phonograph.

There was the slam of glass, and Margaret looked up to see the faces of the men who had previously chased her. Her heart slammed into her chest with every smack of their palms. She couldn’t hear what they said, but she imagined it was not something she wanted to hear.

Eli was immediately beside her, one hand on her thigh grounding her. “There are piranhas with prettier personalities than those three.” He glanced at her, taking in what must have been a look of terror. “They cannot get in the locked door.”

Her dreamself knew this, but still grabbed onto Eli’s arm, wrinkling the fabric as she breathed in, “I know. Shitstains like them respect men’s “property” more than a woman’s word.”

His lips thinned, eyes flashing behind his glasses, “Such disgusting behavior, but I sadly must agree.” Elliott thought for a moment, “Suppose your boyfriend made an appearance?”

“He doesn’t exist,” she mumbled, trying to not let her disappointment at the fact known. “Even then, what good would that do?”

Smiling, Eli pointed to himself, “I could pretend to be your boyfriend, if it would help.”

Her head whipped over to look at him, balking, “I would never ask you to put yourself in that position for my sake.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” Eli chuckled, “There’s a difference.”

Biting her lip, Margaret allowed herself a second to think. “Fine.”

Eli sent a dark glare to the trio in the window and stepped closer to her, almost blocking her from the window, “Maybe a hug would work?”

“I doubt it,” Margaret muttered, hand instinctively resting on his bicep. “If a camera in an elevator didn’t stop them…”

There was a pause, the slam of hands against glass off tempo from the piano music. Eli licked his lips, a blush dusting across his cheeks, “I could pretend to kiss you?”

“Um,” Margaret felt her face heat up, “That might work.”

Carefully, he lowered her face to hers. Margaret held her breath as his warm cheek rested against hers. From the angle they were at, it would look like they were kissing. After a moment, the beating on the glass grew louder, and Eli sighed and drew away, throwing a harsh look over his shoulder. “They are rather persistent.”

Frowning, Margaret shook her head, “I just don’t know what to do. Outside of calling the police, and I don’t want to deal with that. Maybe something more than just a kiss?”

“How far are you willing to go, Peggy?” Eli pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, drawing her attention to the bright blush.

She met his eyes and licked her lips, “If it takes you bending me over this counter and fucking me, then I am more than willing to do that with you.”

Making a slight choking sound, Eli tried to cover it by coughing into his elbow. “Well, I was hoping to one day buy you dinner first, but if that is what it takes.” 

It was actually adorable, how concerned this dream version of Eli was about this. Margaret thought so, and pulled him in by the front of his flannel to meet her lips. Apparently, her perception of Eli imagined him being a hesitant, but sweet kisser. His glasses pressed against her face, and her hands came up to cradle his face against hers. Eli clutched at her thigh, responding to the kiss and sneaking a hand inside her blazer. He slid her towards him on the counter, and Margaret eagerly pressed against him. Her fingers left his face, drifting down his back to pull at the strings of his apron, letting it fall off his hips.

In stereotypical dream-like fashion, her skirt was suddenly pushed up around her waist, underwear exposed and pantyhose unaccounted for. Then there was Eli, working on unbuttoning her blouse and exposing her bra. His breath was hot against her lips, and she was chasing after him as he pulled away, focusing on opening the front clasp of her bra. Margaret threw off her blazer and assisted him, pulling his hands to her breasts and back into a kiss. He murmured her name into the space between them, reminding her of the banging sounds outside. She couldn’t care less.

Eli kissed a warm line from her lips to between her breasts, pausing before commanding, “Bend over.”

So much for hesitant and sweet. Her breathing hitched as Margaret slid partially off the counter, Eli’s hands helping her rest her weight on her chest. Her feet in her heels barely touched the ground, and she swallowed drily in anticipation. Bracing her hands against the countertop, Margaret turned her head, loose silver blue hair obscuring her view of Eli slightly but enough to see how much of her lipstick had gotten all over him. It was probably all over her too. She watched him reverently reach forward to grasp at her hips, his clothed erection brushing against her.

“Are you sure you want this?” Eli asked, pushing his glasses up his nose while his other hand ghosted along the edges of her underwear. “We don’t need to go this far.”

Apparently, in this dream world there was no need for foreplay. “I want you, Elliott.”

His voice was in her ear as Elliott pressed against her, underwear and clothing gone, “You already have me, Margaret.”

…

Margaret woke up.

Groaning, she reached over to turn off the alarm. Elliott shifted against her back, the arm thrown over her waist tightening and pulling her back to him. In the early spring morning, the warmth coming from Elliott was more than welcome and she tried to get closer to him. The sound of rain hit her ears and she sighed, thinking about how much easier her morning would be without having to water all of her crops.

Elliott’s hand flattened against her stomach and he tensed, breathing deeply. Margaret noticed finally that he was hard against her through his pajamas, and smiled slightly at the fact that she was not the only one aroused this morning. As he began to pull away, Margaret linked her fingers between his. He paused.

“Where are you going?” she murmured, eyes closed and sleepy.

Margaret could almost hear his smile, “Merely a trip to the bathroom, I will be right back.” He slid his hand out of hers and had almost slid off the bed before Margaret responded.

She licked her lips, remnants of her dream flashing through her and waking her up. “I dreamt about you.”

“Oh?” Elliott seemed curious, his weight shifting back onto the mattress, “What did you dream about?”

Turning onto her back, Margaret finally opening her eyes to look at him. “How you saved me that one night, three years ago. Except, in the dream, you bent me over the counter and fucked me to help me deter my assailants.”

He blushed lightly, brushing hair away from his face, “Did it work?”

“I don’t know,” Margaret bit her lip, hormones muddling her thoughts as she took in a shirtless, thoroughly mussed Elliott lounging, one hand attempting to conceal his hard on. “I woke up as you entered me.”

“Are you trying to suggest something?” Elliott arched one of his brows, a slight smirk dimpling his cheek. Yoba was he gorgeous.

Feeling herself begin to smile, Margaret merely responded, “I have an extra two hours this morning, thanks to the rain. And I am very unlikely to fall back asleep.”

“Oh, I believe you are suggesting something, my daisy,” Elliott’s smirk turned sly as he hovered over her, throwing his hair over his back and out of their faces.

Helping him brush more hair out of the way, Margaret rested one of her hands against his cheek. He turned into her palm, stubble crossing her skin as he pressed a kiss against her palm. Elliott’s eyes, normally reminding her of green glass, were closer to the color of dewy grass in the weak morning light. She swallowed. “All I am saying is that rather than take a cold shower, you have a person in your bed more than willing to help you with that morning wood, my poet.”

His breath was hot against her palm, and he laced his fingers through hers. Elliott gave her a serious look, “Are you quite sure?”

Holding his gaze, Margaret nodded. “I was sure last night, and I am still wanting you now, Elliott.”

His eyes fluttered closed, an odd expression crossing his face before he kissed her fingertips, “Allow me to find us a condom, first.”

“Of course,” she murmured, letting his hand slip from hers and watching him cross the room. Margaret sat up, leaning against the headrest as her eyes traced his movements. She watched as after a moment, his shoulders sagged.

Elliott turned, disappointment riddling his features as he held up a wrapped condom. “They are all expired.” He grabbed the nondescript box from where he had left it, chucking it noncommittally in the waste basket by the bed. “I am sorry, Margaret.”

Disappointment swelled inside of her, before she thought for a moment, “It’s okay, Elliott. I’m on birth control, and I can grab a morning after pill from Harvey later today.”

Blinking, Elliott gave her an inquisitive look before shrugging, “If you are positive.”

“I am,” Margaret grinned, “Now come here and do what your dream self could not.”

The mattress shifted with his weight as Elliott returned to the bed, a smile returning to his face as his fingers skimmed over her bare legs. “How are you so delightfully tempting at such an ungodly hour?”

“I woke up from a wet dream with absolutely no release.” Margaret spread her legs to allow Elliott to rest against her, “Now what is your excuse for being unfairly sexy after just waking up?”

He chuckled, his hand creeping up the nightgown she wore. The same one she had been wearing last week when he had knocked on her door and proposed to her his ridiculous plan. It almost gave her whiplash to think of how their relationship had changed in a week. “I have no excuse save conditioner.”

“I knew it,” she whispered, even as he moved in to kiss her, “You need to tell me what brand you use.”

“Later,” he muttered, eyes focusing on her lips. “Right now, all I wish for is to taste you on my lips. I feel I should die of starvation otherwise.” 

Groaning, Margaret closed the distance between the two of them. She doubted she would ever get over the idea that she was kissing the man she loved. He was trying to be gentle with her, but Margaret was tired of hesitation. If she was only going to have this part of him, she wanted him without reservation.

Elliott responded to her impatience, dragging her nightgown up as far as he could before they would have to separate. Throwing it off without a second thought, Elliott drew her back in without pause. 

Her hands slid down his back, feeling his muscles working under her fingertips before she slipped them under the hem of his pants. Elliott made a pleased sound as she grabbed his backside, bucking smoothly onto her. Margaret pulled him closer to her, feeling his chest press against hers and sighing into his mouth.

Margaret was far too close to just ripping off their clothes and having him as she was, so she pulled away to kiss at his long neck. In between kisses, she managed to get out, “Elliott… I need to get prepared.”

“Of course, my daisy,” Elliott’s breath stirred the hair on her head. His hand that was not supporting his weight ghosted over her skin, leaving delighted goosebumps in its wake, as it traveled to her inner thighs. “Your lips are even petal soft against my skin. By the heavens, how could I begin to resist pleasuring you?”

Her body shuddered in response to his words, as well as feeling his fingers slip in her underwear to trace her labia. Margaret grasped his biceps lightly, trying to not hurt him. Tilting her head back, she met Elliott’s eyes as he stared down at her. “Pretty words from a gorgeous man? How can I resist at all?”

Withdrawing for a moment, Elliott smiled at Margaret’s slight whimper from the loss of contact. When she saw that he was trying to rid her of her underwear, she quickly helped him. “Resisting you is futile for me. Your eyes beguile me with the depths unseen.” His lips fluttered against her eyelids as he kissed them. A sigh passed through her lips as Elliott’s fingers began circling her vaginal opening. “Every word from your lips tempt me in some way.”

“Elliott,” she keened, grasping at his shoulders as he brushed over her clit. Margaret lifted her head to meet him in a kiss, her body growing warmer with every pass of his fingers. “More, please.”

His chuckle was low, eyes sweeping over her as he slipped a finger in, “It was my intention last night to tell you, but seeing as my tongue then was otherwise occupied, I am now reminded.” He bit his lip as he paused, the words shifting behind his teeth. “You are one of the most glorious sights I have beheld.”

A huff of air left her and Margaret felt herself clench around Elliott’s finger. If she had not been blushing before, she was now. “What a flatterer.” Her words stumbled as another finger joined the first in her, Elliott slowly moving them in and out.

“The truth is often before our eyes, Margaret,” Elliott mused, a smile growing on his face as she squirmed under him. “Or in us, perhaps.”

Rolling her eyes, Margaret thrusted against his fingers, “From the pace at which you’re going, I’m beginning to wonder if you actually want to fuck me.”

Eyes darkening, Elliott rose to her challenge by adding a third finger, “Impatient this morning?”

Margaret licked her lips, a moan building in her throat as he began to stretch her in earnest, “Impatient for you, my dear.”

The breath seemed to leave him at this realization, eyes widening as he looked down at her. “I find myself suddenly impatient as well.”

“It’s okay,” Margaret nodded, “I’m ready.”

He seemed to think for a moment, before nodding back. When his fingers left her, Margaret tried to not think too much about how empty she felt. Elliott got off the bed to remove his pants, crawling back in under her gaze.

Until that moment, Margaret had not seriously thought about the fact that she was about to have a penis inside of her for the first time. The thought popped into her head as she looked at him, and really looked and thought about it. Was she nervous? Yes. But she was more excited.

“Elliott, you truly are beautiful,” Margaret smiled, her hand skimming down his side as he settled over her. His hips fit perfected between her legs, and she felt his erection brush against her.

Reaching between their bodies, Elliott aligned himself with her opening. He smiled, an embarrassed look crossing his face, “Thank you, Margaret.” Hesitantly, he lowered himself onto her to kiss her, the only warning before Elliott began to work his way in.

Margaret, thankful for the few dildos she had purchased in times of loneliness, did not find the intrusion uncomfortable. Instead, she relaxed and moaned against his mouth. In realizing this, Elliott found it was much easier to slide in than he expected it would be and moaned in response.

When he was fully inside her, he paused and pulled away to look at her. “Are you okay?”

She bucked against him, catching him by surprise. “You feel… really good.”

There was a breathless chuckle from him as he took that as a signal to move, his hips slowly pulling him out and back in. “It has… been a while for me. I don’t… know how long… I’ll last.”

“I just want to feel you,” Margaret raised her hips to him, delighted in the way his eyes focused solely on her. That was the last full sentence that went through her as Elliott began to speed up. Her mind scrambled to hold on to something, her arms latching around him to make sure he didn’t leave her.

Pressing a kiss under her ear, Elliott shifted her hips slightly, throwing her legs around his hips as he continued to thrust into her. He himself groaned at the new angle, leaving her breathless. His breathing became erratic and he managed to fit a hand between the two of them.

Margaret had to bite her lip to keep herself from making too loud of a noise as his fingers reached her clit. She sensed that he was near his end as his thrusting grew as erratic as his breathing, his breath hitting her neck at the same time as he pound into her. Her toes curled and she held tight to him, whispering unintelligible encouragements until she was falling from her climax.

With a very audible groan, Elliott finished after her, arms trembling from keeping himself from crushing her. For a brief moment as she was grounding herself again in her body, she wondered how much of a mess the two of them had made.

Primarily all Margaret could think as she held him there, was the pain of holding back one phrase to him. And so, against his drying shoulder she mouthed the words she couldn’t bear to say, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive and with an extra long chapter for y'all. 
> 
> Hope you guys like it! Thank you for your patience, I know waiting for over a month sucks so I will work on making it not that long between chapters. But if it is that long between chapters, I will try to make them longer chapters to help make up.
> 
> I mentioned this before - but if there is anything you would like to see (say... a particular kink or a scene between them) I'll try to work it in. I'm flexible :)
> 
> Thanks! ♥


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of pace...

Elliott’s mind was full.

This was far from an unusual thing for him. As an author, he was constantly entering fictional worlds. Playing around with the setting, the characters, the plotlines. To say he lived in multiple realities would be an understatement however, he knew that such words spoken aloud would make others question his sanity. So yes, Elliott’s mind was typically full. Full of scenes and words and emotions. It was what he did.

This was an unusual fullness that was in his mind.

Perhaps the best description would be the fullness a person felt after one too many pieces of cake, as opposed to too many lobster rolls. The thing that had led to his fullness had been sweet, but now he tasted some regret in not taking his time, really contemplating the next bite he took.

He tapped the mug of coffee in front of him, a piano piece that he believed may be Chopin running through some distant corner in his congested thoughts. Holding his pen in the other hand, Elliott did his best to not sigh too loudly, afraid that his parents across the table from him would question his outward display of frustration.

It was just so damned hard to think of writing anything but romance these days. Even then, how could he prevent himself from merely projecting his own situation onto his characters? It would not do them justice.

Margaret had been distracting enough when she was merely a new character inserted into the valley. Another city dweller who had been wrung dry by the speed of the city’s tempo. And yes, she had seemed oddly familiar, but it was rather hard to see the connection between the woman he had harbored a small crush on and the person she truly was. Part of that was on him having his head too far up his own ass. Elliott knew now that the woman he had seen as Peggy was not who she was. Peggy had always been severely quiet, a sort of serious dignity that he realized hid the depths of depression and disgust with herself and the world. Margaret, in reality, was a quiet but friendly and self-sacrificing individual that kept her innermost thoughts to herself. A surprisingly nerdy individual, as well. It was like night and day.

To be honest, Elliott was not quite sure when he had realized the depths of his feelings for Margaret. Perhaps it was when he was writing his dedication to her, or when he saw her standing there in the library that day he presented his published book, a proud grin on her face as she applauded his success. His success that was partially thanks to her. How could he not feel anything for the person who pushed him through block after block, who brought him gifts when everything seemed like it would never work out, who allowed him to bounce ideas off of her into the long nights?

Despite all of that, it was still hard to read what she was really feeling at times. Margaret had confessed to him before of the fact that she knew she hid many of her emotions from others. So, Elliott really did not know how far her own feelings towards him extended. There was also the question if she truly was oblivious to his affections, or merely played at being oblivious.

His father glanced up from his book on some ancient culture’s pottery techniques and quirked an eyebrow, “Is something the matter?” His mother looked up from her own book on DNA sequencing.

Waving his hand, Elliott attempted to brush their concern away, “An unfortunate writer’s block, I assure you that the words will not elude me for long.”

Elliott’s mother had always been astute, and after a careful sip of her coffee she spoke up, “Distracted by your lovely wife?”

Flustered by how close her question was to the mark, along with the reminder of the circumstances of their marriage. “My very distracting muse, yes.”

“We are intruding on your honeymoon period,” Father acquiesced, putting down his book to look at Elliott. “Your mother and I talked about it. Perhaps we should give you some time alone with Peggy, come back to visit another time.”

Elliott let out a chuckle to try and cover the panic that shot down his spine, “It’s quite alright, Father. Peggy and I do not mind. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” He took a large gulp of the coffee in front of him.

His parents gave each other a look, sending his pulse into a frenzy. It was the same look they had always given each other whenever he mentioned becoming an author and living off of his books. Right before they smiled and asked how his day was, effectively dismissing him.

“The beginning of any marriage is a very vulnerable time,” Mother’s voice was serious, but softened in a typical motherly way. “We’re just… worried. The two of you obviously care for each other, but how long were you together? We’ve talked to some of the people in town, and they seemed to have no idea that you were together, let alone engaged. We don't want to offend, but how much serious thought did you put into your marriage?”

Elliott turned sheepish, trying to not pull at his necktie, “We may have kept our romance a secret from others, and perhaps we rushed into marriage, but we did talk about what it would mean for us.”

“It's just that aside from occasional meals and the mornings and evenings,” Father sighed, “You don't see much of each other.”

Shrugging, Elliott took another drink of his cooling coffee, “I originally moved out here for the solitude. It does not bother me one bit. Peggy-” he inwardly winced, the name feeling wrong to him, “is busy. A successful farm like hers takes more work than any of us could know unless we ourselves tried. Not to mention that she also runs errands for other towns folks, visits various members of the community, and various other tasks. I'm not lonely when she is working so hard and never complains. I'm proud for her.”

His mother opened her mouth, only for the door to crash open and a soaked Margaret to appear. Margaret made eye contact with him, and Elliott saw that while her face tried to remain straight, her eyes were wide.

“Cookies is gone.”

His mouth popped open in shock while his mind floundered to put the name to an animal. As Elliott remembered that Cookies was the very pregnant cow Margaret had been babbling about yesterday, he stood and rushed over to her. “How? Did any other animals escape?”

Margaret shook her head, “No. I have no clue. I checked all over the farm and I couldn't find her. Elliott, she shouldn't be out there in that storm. What if she's trying to give birth?”

He reached out to cup her cold, wet face in his hands, letting her hold onto him like a lifeline, “We’ll see if we can ask some townspeople to help search for her. The more eyes that search for her, the better. It will be okay. I'm sure Cookies is fine.”

Margaret nodded, biting her lip in an attempt to stop it from wobbling as it had been. Oh Yoba, Elliott practically heard the crack in his heart as if her pain was his own. “Okay. I'll go ask Robin and her family.”

“I will ask Marnie if she and Shane can lend a hand.” Elliott tried to not think of the fact that it was raining enough to put mythical stories to shame and what it would mean for his hair. He may be vain (and fully admit to his vanity), but the life of at least one human creature was on the line. “Now go change into something that will attempt to be somewhat waterproof. I do not want you to catch even a case of the sniffles.”

His father stood from the table, hands in his pockets as he asked, “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Appearing more put together, Margaret brushed some of the wet hair from her face as she shook her head, “I appreciate the offer, but Eleanor and you do not know the area as well as we do. You can stay here, in case someone comes by with news or is looking for us. I’ll write down my cell phone number, although the reception around here has more holes than Swiss cheese.”

“We can do that,” his mother nodded, “Don’t hesitate to ask us for anything.”

“Actually,” Elliott paused himself, wondering how much it would help, “Perhaps you could go into town and let Mayor Lewis know that Cookies is on the loose. He would be able to rally more people to our cause and he owns the only truck in town, should we need it.” He sighed, a brief thought of wondering how long this will take passing through his mind. “Margaret, do you have any umbrellas we can use?”

“I think I do, hold on.” Margaret threw off her soaking shoes, her wet socks leaving footprints as she traveled across the room to hunt in the closet full of wedding gifts. “I have two umbrellas, a rain coat, and a bunch of garbage bags that can be turned into ponchos if need be.”

Elliott sighed, going to stand behind her while avoiding the puddles she tracked into the house. “Those will be perfect. I will take care of handing these out, now you really must change into dry clothes.”

“Okay.” Margaret straightened and appeared to march straight into their room, the door shutting quietly.

He jumped as his father touched his shoulder, “She’s upset. Go check on her, would you? Reassure her that the cow is likely fine. I don’t know much about the situation, but I do know that losing a cow can really hurt a farmer’s source of income.”

“I already said as much, though,” Elliott brushed his hair from his face, turning into the closet to grab the umbrellas she had mentioned. “I am sure that she is fine.”

“Elliott,” he sighed at his mother’s tone, “You should go and make sure she isn’t freaking out. If I was in her shoes, I know I would be.”

A frown crossed his face, but he could unfortunately see his parent’s logic, “If you insist.” He handed one of the umbrellas to his father and followed after Margaret, softly knocking at the door before entering. He saw Margaret hastily wipe at her face as she was wrestling her flannel off and moved in to help. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly?” Margaret took a wet-sounding breath. “No. While I’m wrestling with this damnable clothing, Cookies is likely out there having her baby in freezing rain all by herself.” Her jeans stuck to her skin and she made a frustrated sound.

Elliott had never seen her like this, and frankly was unsure how to proceed. When a person who was normally in control of their emotions appeared to be at their breaking point, it was hard to tell what would upset them more. So he paused before asking if she needed help in taking off her clothes. “Or do you want me to find some dry clothes? A towel to help you dry off?”

Fighting to get the denim off, Margaret sighed as Elliott helped her tug them off. “I need to get back out there as soon as I can. I don’t care about being wet or dry until Cookies is back in the barn.” She sat down on the bed to give them better angles for removing the jeans.

Elliott grunted, kneeling to pull on the jeans until they came off with a wet pop from her legs. Trying his best to ignore that Margaret was nearly undressed before him, he placed a hand on her thigh and looked up at her, “Your health is just as important.” In an attempt at levity, he joked, “I do not want to kiss someone with a cold, you know?”

It was not the right thing to say, as while her voice was unchanged, an eyebrow was raised. “My cow is a little more important than kissing, Elliott.”

Wincing, Elliott grimaced, “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me to say when you are so worried about her.”

Whatever displeasure his words had caused seemed to have snapped her out of whatever panic she had been spiraling towards. Her face was passive and she patted his hand, “You were trying to cheer me up. It’s okay.” Seemingly without a second thought she removed her wet bra, the material making a disgusting sound as it hit the floor. 

Elliott’s eyes immediately drifted away from her face, unable to help it. They were right in front of his face. The cold had definitely affected her physically.  
Chuckling, Margaret brought his attention back to her face as she smiled, “Sorry that I’m so distracting. I hope you’ll have enough time to write once we find Cookies.”

It took a monumental amount of effort to not groan or reach out for her, but at the same time he almost wanted to laugh. “I have more than enough time to write, my daisy.” She flushed at the name, one of his long-thought questions being answered as her breasts flushed as well. “Now, I am going to get you warm, dry clothes so you do not freeze out there.”

“Thank you, Elliott,” Margaret smiled, her hands going to cup his face and draw him up to her. Although cold, Elliott did not complain as her lips fit against his. She drew away and Elliott wanted to sigh from content as her thumb brushed against his cheek. “I’m definitely going to need help warming up once this is all over.”

Mentally praying to whatever god might listen to a poor poet, Elliott chuckled, “That is what I thought early this morning was for?”

Her hands drifted into his hair, rubbing at his scalp in a most delightful way. “I probably should have mentioned this beforehand, but I have quite the sexual appetite.”

Another prayer was quickly thrown out, but Elliott could not help a smile from crossing his face, “We will see how tired we both are before any promises are made.” He closed his eyes, enjoying her fingers combing through his hair. He understood now why women always were fond of people playing with their hair.

Snorting lightly, Margaret caressed circles into his head, “Fair point. I really need to be out searching now, but you’re very distracting.”

Hating that he had to be the voice of reason, Elliott withdrew with a sigh, “Cookies needs you more than either of us need sex right now.”

“You’re right.” Margaret braced herself as she stood, walking over to the closet full of their clothes on very wet feet. Elliott winced as she rung her hair out on the floor, second guessing on whether a towel was needed. “I’m going to check the mines. If it’s storming out, Cookies is going to want to be in a dark place out of the rain.”

Standing, Elliott moved to stand by her as she pulled out clean underwear, quickly discarding the wet pair she wore. “You should have Robin accompany you. The fortune teller predicted there was bad luck or energy or spirits – whatever fortune tellers say – in the air today.”

One thing that always had confused him about Margaret was her steadfast devotion to the fortuneteller. It was completely at odds with her practical self and her background in the sciences. He did not believe in such things and still had a hard time believing that there were in fact ghosts in the old mines. Yet after a few too many glasses of moscato one night, Margaret told him all about the trouble her friends would get in during their college days, sometimes chasing spirits and being chased themselves. It was rather fantastical, but intriguing from a writing standpoint.

“I’ll be fine. I know the layout of every floor and what I can expect in them. They’re nothing compared to the Skull Cavern in the Desert.” She was rapid in buttoning up another flannel – just how many did she own? – and pulling a sweater over for more layers. “Even then, unless she has suddenly learned how to operate an elevator she is not likely to be very far into the mines.”

“Please… exercise caution, Margaret.” Elliott handed her the boots that seemed to shine with iridium, a near neon purple that was obviously not her typical style.

Flashing him a smile, Margaret tugged the boots on over her jeans with quick precision, tightening the laces, “I will. And if no one wants to help, just bribe them with some of the wine and jam I’ve been storing in the cellar.”

He grimaced, “Hopefully it will not come to that. With all you have done for the community, I would imagine they would rally to aid you.” 

“Let’s hope they do,” grim certainty flashed across her face, and she pulled her hair up and into a beanie that she pulled over her ears. Margaret stood, pulling out a large rain coat from the closet and shoving her arms into it. “If you find Cookies, try shouting down the elevator shaft or have Linus come looking for me. If I’m not back by five, well, then grab Linus or someone else who is familiar with the mines.”

Following after Margaret as she left their room, Elliott watched as she went to the fridge and stuffed food and tonics into her backpack, “I will get as many people looking for her as possible.”

“I appreciate it.” Margaret was a whirlwind, stopping to give him a quick kiss on the lips before flying out the door.

Becoming acutely aware of his parents’ stares, Elliott turned to them with a sheepish grin, “It is best if I start to gather the troops.”

His mother gave him an approving look, sipping her coffee. “I will hold down the fort, then.”

“Here,” his father handed him one of the two umbrellas, “I’ll need you to remind me which house is your mayor’s.”

Elliott sighed, mentally fortifying himself for the search ahead of him, “Of course. Let us depart. The sooner we find Cookies, the sooner we are back in the warm house.”

...

Shane was managing the counter in Marnie’s place, boredom more plainly written across his face than it would be on paper. As soon as he looked up at Elliott, whatever words were about to come from his lips died out and turned into a scowl. “What do you want?”

Used to this usual display of hostility, Elliott shook the umbrella outside before stepping all the way in, “Good morning, Shane. Is Marnie at home?”

“I’m right here, Elliott,” Marnie called out from the kitchen before appearing in the doorway a moment later, “What’s the problem?”

Elliott took a breath, “We have come across a problem at the farm. One of the cows is missing, and is possibly in labor.” He paused at Marnie’s gasp and Shane straightening from his slouch. “Margaret has gone into the mountains to look for her. We were wondering if you two could help us search the general forest area.”

Marnie lowered her hand from her mouth, “We’ll definitely help you two. Is it Cookies? Her ma was a runner too. Poor girl, out there in the middle of a flood! And with a calf, no less!”

“Thank you. Margaret made me promise that we would offer you some jam in return for your help,” Elliott waited as Marnie reached for her coat on the rack.

Standing, Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets, “She doesn’t need to give us anything.” His eyes were more than a little distant as he looked past Elliott, “We need to find her before it gets any darker. Aunt Marnie, the flashlights?”

“Oh of course,” Marnie rushed behind the counter, pulling out two flashlights and handing one to Shane. “Elliott, you best go with Shane. I know the forest better than you two, and you’re going to need a flashlight for the thicker parts of the tree coverage.”

Elliott didn’t care who he went with as long as they found Cookies. He tugged at his necktie, noticing the scowl on Shane’s face. “Thank you again. We haven’t any time to lose.”

Shane was quiet as they scoured behind every bush and tree. Elliott tried to not think about the dour man too much as he shouted after the cow, wondering how much trouble one cow could get herself into. Apparently, quite a bit. 

About an hour and a half into the search, Shane broke his silence. “How long were you and Margaret secretly a thing?”

Giving pause, Elliott glanced at Shane to gauge why he would be asking. His usual grimace was on his face, although now that he thought about it the usual grimace had been less usual as of late. “About a year or so. Is there a particular reason why you are asking, or just for the sake of satisfying the rumor mills?”

Shane grunted, “I couldn’t give a fuck about the rumors going around this town as long as they aren’t true.” He swung the flashlight at a suspiciously cow-shaped bush. “But I figured you would want to know that up until a week ago, I could swear she was flirting with me. I really thought she had a thing for me, what with how many presents she gave me.”

Stopping, Elliott looked again at Shane. “Margaret gives everyone gifts.”

A quick glance over the shoulder told Elliott that Shane’s face was serious, “She one told me that she would always be there for me, no matter what I did. Does that sound like something she would do for just anyone?”

“No,” Elliott admitted, his mind trying to fill in the gaps between Shane and Margaret. “But it does sound like something she would tell a good friend.”

“Look,” Shane was frowning as he stopped to look back at Elliott. “I don’t want to be a homewrecker. I just wanted you to know, because no one deserves that sort of shit in their lives. I also wanted you to know that I had no idea the two of you were together, whether you believe me or not about Margaret’s feelings.”

“I… appreciate it,” Elliott was frowning now, his mind snagging on an important piece of information. 

Why had Margaret owned a Mermaid Pendant?

“You’re welcome,” Shane nodded. “Now, if I know what a cow in labor sounds like – which I unfortunately do – Cookies should be behind this bush. And we may have to help her through the birth out here. We won’t be able to move her very far, so let’s hope she chose a dry spot.”

“Fantastic,” Elliott mumbled, his hands feeling numb in the cold and the thoughts pressing down on him. He was going to need a drink. “You are going to have to instruct me in what to do.”

They moved towards the baying sounds of Cookies, finding her underneath a cluster of trees that had laid down plenty of dry pine needles for her to lay in. Still, it was damp. Elliott allowed Shane to take over, taking the flashlight from him and pointing it where he indicated. Halfway through the contractions, Marnie showed up with Lewis and his truck. While life was a beautiful thing, giving life was not, and Elliott had to step away multiple times over the next three hours it took for Cookies to give birth. But give birth she did, and a small female was soon being licked clean by the mother.

Elliott glanced at his watch, appalled that it was already 4:30 in the afternoon. “Has anyone told Margaret that she has been found?”

Lewis shook his head as the four of them attempted to get the mother and child into his truck, “Not yet, I think.”

“I will go get her then, if you don’t mind delivering these two to the comfort of their barn?” Elliott was soaking wet by now, the umbrella had only helped so much when you were out for as long as they had. But he had to go get her and made sure she knew the cow and the baby were safe.

Lewis and Marnie waved him off to go find his wife, and he began the miserable trek up to the mountains. He stopped by Robin’s to ask if she had seen Margaret, which she had not. At least she offered to come with him up to the mines, in case they could not reach her through the elevator.

“The calf is okay, though?” Robin asked as they entered the mines, a sword attached to her hip.

“Marnie pronounced her to be a healthy as a horse,” Elliott paused, thinking over that statement, “Which is a rather odd comparison when one thinks about it.”  
Robin laughed, heading over to what must have been the elevator and pressing a button, “I’m glad to hear that, then. Let’s hope we can reach Margaret this way.”

The doors opened and Elliott stuck his head in. Taking a deep breath, he yelled out, “Margaret, we found Cookies.” He waited for a response, then repeated himself. Nothing. “Well then. I haven’t a clue about the mines except that there are dangerous things in it. After you, Robin?”

“We’ll start on the tenth level and work up from there,” Robin entered into the mines and waited for Elliott before pressing the button to have the elevator lower them. “Although with how long she has been gone, she could be farther.”

Elliott’s teeth began to clatter together in the damp cold of the underground, his clothes sticking to his person. “Hopefully she got distracted by an ore vein or something.”

“Or something,” Robin echoed.

She was not on the tenth floor. Or any floors between the first and tenth. Those were clear of monsters. Elliott and Robin went to the twentieth floor. Then the thirtieth. They only started to see a hint of enemies on the 75th floor.

Elliott and Robin found Margaret in a corner of the 74th floor, feet away from the ladder down to the next floor. He rushed to her side where she lay prone, his heart stopped in his chest at the sight. Quickly checking for a pulse, Elliott let loose a sigh of relief when it felt somewhat strong. Yet she was still gravely hurt, with all sorts of wounds covering her body.

“What could have done this?” Elliott whispered, hoping she would wake up soon.

Robin grimaced, “Almost anything in here, if there were enough of them. There may have been an infestation on this floor that she took care of, but it took a lot out of her.”

“We need to get her to Harvey,” Elliott gathered her into his arms, trying not to shake at how limp she lay. “As fast as we can.”

Nodding, Robin pointed to the ladder, “That’s our fastest bet. We get her down to the next level and we can ride the elevator up.”

“Of course,” Elliott rushed over to the ladder, readjusting Margaret so that she was over his shoulder and allowing him to descend. Robin was faster coming down the ladder, practically sliding down it despite a chance of splinters. “How long could she have been like this?”

“I don’t know,” Robin replied truthfully, punching in the top floor of the mines. “But I do know that with wounds like those, she would not have lasted much longer down there without attracting more monsters.”

Breathing through his nose in an attempt to calm down, Elliott spared a glance at Margaret’s pale face. Her eyes fluttered briefly and a moan passed through her lips. “Elliott?”

Elliott’s breath shuddered through his chest, “I’m here, Margaret. You are safe.”

“Cookies?” Margaret blinked up at him, her eyes gaining clarity through the pain. “Was she found?”

The damn cow was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment, but he managed to reply to her, “Safe and sound in the barn. Gave birth to a healthy baby girl who is waiting for you to get back to her.”

The elevator opened, Robin and Elliott shooting out like bullets from a gun. Robin held an umbrella over their heads to keep too much rain from falling on them. Margaret managed to swing her arms around Elliott’s neck, “Good. I’m glad they’re safe. Thank you, Elliott.”

“Do not mention it, Margaret. We are going to get you to Dr. Harvey now, okay?” Elliott glanced between her and the road. “I need you to stay awake.”

She winced, causing his heartstrings to tug at him, “I’ll try.”

“Margaret, can you tell us what happened?” Robin spoke over his shoulder.

Tucking herself further into his arms, Margaret closed her eyes, “I was stupid. A bat swarm hit, followed by ghosts. I should have brought an elixir.”

“We’re just glad you’re still here with us. Tell us why did you go so deep into the mines?” Robin was much better at holding herself together, making sure Elliott didn’t trip and fall as they raced down the stairs into town.

Margaret did not respond for a couple of minutes, and Elliott was afraid that she was unconscious again before she spoke up outside of Harvey’s clinic. “I thought I heard Cookies. I was wrong.”

As soon as they entered into the clinic and Harvey saw who Elliott was carrying, the smile on Harvey’s face flipped upside down. He tried to take her from Elliott’s arms, but he wouldn’t let him. Elliott refused to leave her until he knew for certain that she would be all right.

An hour passed, and Elliott jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up at Harvey. “Is she stable?”

Harvey sighed, “Yes. She’s fine and all of her major wounds have been healed by an elixir. But she cannot do any strenuous work for a couple of days. Which also extends to the bed, Elliott.”

He sputtered, growing a little red before calming himself down, “Of course, Harvey.”

Something about his response seemed to give Harvey pause, as he looked back at him again with a critical eye. “Is Margaret pregnant?”

“Absolutely not,” Elliott’s jaw dropped. “Margaret is not pregnant. At least, not that we know of.”

“Ah-hm,” Harvey did not seem convinced. “Have you had unprotected sex?” When Elliott didn’t answer, Harvey made another sound of confirmation. “I am going to send the two of you home with a pregnancy test. Whether she uses it is up to her. If she is pregnant, I want her back in here to make sure the pregnancy was not affected by the damage done to her. Doctor’s orders.”

Elliott could only stare after Harvey as he left the room, allowing him into the room where Margaret was.

She gave him a weak smile from where she was sitting, “I’ve really messed this one up.”

“Margaret,” Elliott couldn’t help but laugh with relief, “Why does the good doctor think you are pregnant?”

A faint look of horror crossed her face, “Oh my gods, does he really? Maybe it was the sudden wedding between us?”

It clicked for him at the same time as it had for her. “Dear Yoba, does the town think we married because of an unexpected pregnancy?”

Margaret’s face scrunched up, “I know I’ve been gaining some weight recently, but really? This is just insulting.” She stood up and grabbed a crutch, bringing   
Elliott’s attention back to the present. Eyes drifting between him and the crutch, she huffed, “Doctor’s orders. I’m perfectly fine though.”

“I would hardly say that. You were about two steps from death’s door when Robin and I found you. You scared me half to death,” Elliott’s voice rose slightly, unable to help himself as he thought about the amount of panic he had been through that day.

Wincing slightly, Margaret hobbled over to him, “Believe me when I say that I am so sorry for what I put you through today. I will do my damnedest to make it right in any way I can.”

He felt himself physically soften as her hand reached up to cradle his face, “Just… get better soon.” His hand laid over hers, feeling like he had gone through the full range of human emotion in under 18 hours.

“I will, Elliott,” there was that look in her eyes again. The gentleness that tugged at his heart, while being carefully distant. Who was she keeping the distance for? “Let’s go home?”

Nodding, Elliott pulled her hand into his, “Please. I need the sleep.” His mind was full again. Full of the things Shane had said. Full of Margaret’s pale face as he raced to save her. Full of confusion.

A short chuckle escaped her lips, “As do I, Elliott. As do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! 
> 
> I'm going to try and push out another chapter for Christmas, but thankfully I am now on break for a couple of weeks, which means more time to actually write!
> 
> Thanks so much for all of the love and support you've given me so far! With this upcoming year, my classes should be significantly easier (despite already having my senior project loom over me) and much less ass-kicky. So more Stardew Valley & Stardew Valley fan fic (art?)
> 
> Have a nice week everyone!
> 
> P.S. What silly name should we name this newborn cow? Any ideas?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear there is a cohesive plot somewhere in here.

The morning was chilly, despite the warm sun shining down over the valley. Margaret was sandwiched between Cookies and her new calf Storm, appreciating the warmth that came from their bodies. Storm snuggled up to Margaret, leaning into the hand that was scratched her ears while nosing her mother. Thankfully, the wet or cold conditions of her birth did not affect her much.

Still, Margaret had to give a light scolding to Cookies for giving them such a scare the day before. Cookies merely looked back at her with her calm eyes and gently headbutted her in shoulder. That was enough of an apology for Margaret.

Sighing, Margaret watched as Owen the goat studied Bubble the pig rooting around the dirt. Perhaps one day, Owen would start digging up truffles alongside Bubble. Laughing at the thought, Margaret extracted herself from between the mother and child and hobbled over to where she had left her crutch against the fence. She still didn’t think she really need the crutch. Her knee was all that hurt after Harvey took a look at her. All that Margaret needed was a knee brace and she would be fine.

Elliott appeared from between rows of crops a fence over, wiping sweat from his brow and holding her watering can in his other hand. “Do you truly water all of these plants every day?” 

Grabbing the new batch of animal goods, Margaret smiled over at him, taking in the dirt that now covered his forehead from wiping at it and the jeans he managed to find stained with mud. He even pulled his hair back in a bun and was wearing a sweater. It was the most casual thing she had ever seen him wear, and she secretly enjoyed it. “You get better at it with time. But yes, the ones that don’t have sprinklers I water.”

“I now understand why you are always so tired. It must test the limits of your patience.” Elliott leaned against the fence, digging at the dirt under his nails. “But it is also very rewarding, I must admit.”

With a smile, Margaret leaned over to pluck twigs from his hair, “It is. What was it you said one time? That it was as if my essence was infused into the fruit?” Elliott chuckled at the reminder, tilting his head forward to allow her to get at more bits and pieces that somehow found a home in his hair. “I guess you’re right. Part of me will always be in those crops. But now you’ve helped too, so some of your own self is in those crops. You just helped to feed people, Elliott.”

He hummed in response, “I shall try to not ponder too hard on what it means for people to eat part of us.”

Margaret laughed and met Elliott’s eyes as he looked back up. Her next words were serious, but with a smile that made it hard for the depth of her appreciation to really show, “Thank you for helping out this morning, Elliott.”

“You are very welcome, Margaret.” Elliott smiled, then grimaced as Margaret wet her thumb to wipe away at the dirt on his brow. “I hope you merely forgot that there is a watering can full of water at our feet.”

“I did,” Margaret chuckled, “But this works just as well. Afraid to have my spit on you? Shouldn’t have come to me to play pretend marriage, then.”

“On that topic,” Elliott stalled for a moment, the mood dropping significantly. “Yoba, I feel like an ass asking this now, but… Is there anyone you are interested in?”

Blinking slowly, Margaret tried her best to make sure her face was carefully blank, even as she felt her cheeks heating up. “I did mention that no suitors were about to come punch you or something.”

“That is not what I am asking, though,” Elliott sighed, his face solemn. “You owned a mermaid pendant before I came to you. Someone who does not have another in mind does not simply buy a mermaid pendant for no reason. I would hate to think that your chances of happiness would be hurt because of my selfishness.”

“Oh Elliott,” Margaret looked away for a moment, towards the still waters of the pond in order to collect her thoughts. When she looked back at him, it was with a somewhat sad smile, “There is someone I know I am in love with. I’m too much of a coward to ask them if they feel even remotely the same way I do for them, and the likelihood that I would be able to feel the same way about another… well…” Margaret sighed, patting Elliott’s hand. “My chances of happiness in terms of marriage were already very low, and most of me as accepted that. It was that very small hope inside me that bought the mermaid pendant. I’m just glad it got some use out of it.”

Elliott’s brow furrowed as he looked at her, “So you are not interested in Shane?”

“Shane?” Margaret’s mind went to multiple questions, mainly wondering why Elliott thought she was in love with Shane. “No.”

“Truly?” Elliott released the hair from his bun, shaking out any last debris that Margaret had missed. “He seemed certain that you had feelings for him.”

Now it was Margaret’s turn to frown, “Well, I don’t.” She paused to think it over before groaning and placing her head in her hands, “But I knew he did. I should go apologize to him, especially if he thinks I was leading him on. Oh, I’m a horrible person.”

“No you are not,” Elliott retorted. “If it’s not Shane, then who is it?”

“You’re oddly persistent today,” Margaret muttered, looking back up. “It doesn’t matter, Elliott.”

“It does!” he pushed forward, surprising her. Elliott lifted his hand to pull at his necktie, but realizing it was not on him he settled for running a hand through his hair. “Margaret, I-“

Eleanor interrupted, saving Margaret from her son’s interrogation, “Lunch is ready, you two!”

An odd mixture of emotions flew across Elliott’s face before resignation set in, “Very well.” He pushed off of the fence and took the basket of animal goods from Margaret, “Do not think you’ve escaped from answering my questions, Margaret. It matters, perhaps more than you realize.”

Looking away, Margaret tried to not think too hard about what he meant, “Okay.”

He sighed, dirt falling from his hair as he shook it out, “I worded that poorly. I am just… concerned, and I do not want to see you sad because of something I have done. Friends look out for each other, correct?”

Margaret noted how he distanced himself from her, the small amount of rising hope she might have felt plummeting, “Right, friends.” She forced herself to smile and look back at his face.

Opening his mouth to say something, Elliott paused, then shook his head. “Let us go before my mother decides to yell for us again. She may seem benign, but if you neglect her cooking you will discover she has a very passive-aggressive streak.”

A real smile sneaked onto her face, “Better not wake the dragon, then.”

Elliott rolled his eyes, “You have no idea.”

…

Margaret was back in the fields after lunch, brushing aside Elliott’s offer to help in order to give herself some space to think. Her hands were busy as she carefully took soil samples from various parts of the field, labeling where they were taken as well as other variables. The samples were intended for Demetrius, who was conducting a side experiment to see how cover crops affected moisture and nutrient levels in a no-till field versus a field that had been tilled. Margaret understood the theory behind the work, but none of the specifics. If he was able to help her better take care of the soil that now fostered her career, Margaret was happy to help him.

Frankly, Margaret wasn’t sure what to think about her situation anymore. Ever since she and Elliott had sex, he seemed more… emotional? Pushy? Could she even consider him being territorial, what with asking her about any potential romances? Maybe he truly was being protective of her? Most people were like that once they were in a sort of intimate relationship, but Margaret didn’t see the sense in that. The two of them knew that this whole arrangement was very temporary, so Elliott becoming possessive over her was odd. He had not said anything to the contrary to make her believe that whatever was between them was anything more than platonic and sexual.

Was he unconsciously using her? Margaret did not believe him to behave like that intentionally – he did not have an evil bone in his body.

Either way, his aggravation earlier startled her. She had only seen him visibly upset when he was working through a writer’s block. Something was obviously troubling him. Perhaps it would be better to keep her distance emotionally. It had always worked out for her in the past. Even if it meant she ended up alone. Even if it did mean letting go of the man she loved.

Did he… possibly have feelings for her?

Hunden started barking, and normally he only did that if there was someone coming up the path to her farm. With a slight groan, Margaret pushed herself to her feet and walked through her field towards the cottage, carrying the soil samples.

Sure enough, someone was there, although it was no one that Margaret recognized. With their back turned to her, Margaret could only see a carefully styled mess of black hair and a stylish sports coat that was obviously tailored to fit their slim waist.

“Hello, can I help you?” Margaret called out. Hunden, upon seeing her, trotted over and plopped by her feet, no longer worried about the stranger.

The man turned and Margaret started. To say he was handsome was not strong enough of a word. Perhaps classically beautiful fit more, with well a well-defined bone structure. He pushed up the black frames of his glasses and looked at her with dark eyes, “Is this the Cloudroad farm?” Oh Yoba, he had an accent.

Opening the gate, Margaret hobbled over on her crutch, “That it is. Can I help you?”

“I was told that I could find Elliott here, do you know where he is?” The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed, like he was hiding some nervousness.

Raising an eyebrow, Margaret nodded, “He’s in the house. I can go get him. What’s your name?”

His eyes darted to the crutch, “Please, do not trouble yourself for my sake. I’m Ahmed.”

“Well, Ahmed, there is no trouble. The crutch is just from a small accident yesterday. Do you mind if I ask why you need Elliott?” Margaret tilted her head, inspecting him. He was too nicely dressed for her to really guess what this was about, but he obviously had money.

A small smile formed on his lips, “I decided to surprise him with a visit.”

A careful blink, then Margaret tried to smile back at him, “Why don’t we just go to the house then. You’ve likely travelled a ways, if you’re from Zuzu City.”

“Ah, thank you,” His head dipped forward a little as he followed after her, a small briefcase at his side. “Your name is…?”

“Margaret Cloudroad,” she threw over her shoulder.

She felt his eyes focus on her, “Margaret?”

Nodding, Margaret smiled back at him as she opened the door to the cottage. She announced before entering, “Elliott, you have a surprise visitor.”

Elliott looked up from his book, whatever words he was going to say dying on his lips as he saw Ahmed over Margaret’s shoulder. His face went from confusion to recognition, then an odd mixture of horror and happiness. He stood, swallowing, “Ahmed?”

Stepping past Margaret, Ahmed’s face broke into a beautiful smile, “Elliott.” He put down the briefcase just in time for the two men to crush each other in a large hug.

Margaret glanced to Eleanor and Garrett, blinking at their expressions. Eleanor kept glancing nervously between the two men and Margaret, while Garrett appeared to studiously ignore the scene before him. Something was off.

Elliott pulled away, “When did you get back from overseas?”

“When did you move to some village out in the middle of nowhere?” Ahmed retorted, his hands coming up to cup Elliott’s face. “I read your book and I knew I had to see you.”

A somewhat mortified blush crossed Elliott’s cheeks, “Ahmed…”

“And you moved in to some farm? Whatever happened to waiting for me to come back to get an apartment together?” Ahmed’s tender tone turned to scolding.

Lifting an eyebrow, Margaret crossed her arms. Some puzzle pieces seemed to be piecing themselves together, and she tried to keep from feeling jealous.

“I did not hear from you for six years… I believed we were abandoning such hopes.” Elliott’s eyes drifted from Ahmed’s to Margaret’s. “Ahmed, I must introduce you to someone very important.” He gulped and further extracted himself from Ahmed’s hands, moving to Margaret’s side. Carefully, he put his arm around her, “This is my wife, Margaret. And this is our farm.”

Silence struck the Cloudroad Cottage, punctuated by the sound of a cow.

“Your wife?” Ahmed looked at Margaret, incredulous as he took her in again. Margaret was once again overly conscious of the dirt the was rubbed all over her clothes, the holes in her jeans, the fraying hem of her flannel, and the messy braid she had thrown her hair into. Conscious of her entire existence as he measured her and found her lacking in some way. “Her?”

“Ahmed,” Elliott’s tone was warning him, but it did not seem to deter the glare she was receiving. He turned to Margaret, “Ahmed and I were together for a number of years. Aside from you and my parents, no one knows me better.”

All of her time at JoJo Mart taught her to smile despite her actual feelings, and she threw herself into the smile, “It’s nice to be formally introduced, Ahmed.”

Taking a deep breath, Ahmed managed to compose himself, “I am sorry I did not realize sooner. I am sorry for my outburst. I’m just… very surprised.”

“I can imagine so,” Margaret felt some pity for the man, who obviously had come and expected the reunion of lovers. She glanced to the rest of the room’s occupants, where Garrett was carefully surveying the three of them over his book and Eleanor was actually covering her mouth with her hand. Elliott seemed calm, but his hand was tight against her waist. “Eleanor, Garrett… how about I show you two how I set up my greenhouse?”

Both stood up quickly, excusing themselves quietly and closing the door behind them. Margaret sighed, dropping the smile and turned to the two men.

“Elliott, do you still have feelings for him?” Elliott sputtered, refusing to answer. Shaking her head, Margaret looked at Ahmed, “You choose a wonderful time to show up, Ahmed. You can tell him whatever, Elliott.” She left, not wanting to be in the same room when the two of them likely exploded.

“Peggy,” Eleanor grabbed her arm as they headed to the greenhouse. “You should let Elliott explain.”

She gave her and Garrett a small smile, “Elliott himself said so. He didn’t hear from him for over six years. Anyone would take a hint and move on.” Shrugging, Margaret continued, “I’m not worried.”

“We knew Ahmed was back and wanting to see Elliott. We didn’t know the two of you were together and told him that Elliott was in Pelican Town about two weeks ago.” Garrett walked with his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground. “We thought Elliott and Ahmed were still together until last week.”

Things just had to be made more and more complicated. “It’s okay. Elliott and Ahmed will talk. If need be, I will clean off the couch for him to sleep on until he leaves.”

“You’re not concerned about Ahmed? He can be very persuasive.” Eleanor linked her arm through Margaret’s, helping her along as she had forgotten the crutch in the house.

Considering the fact that Elliott and her were not actually together, she wasn’t concerned about him cheating on her. All they had was their friends with benefits. Was she jealous? Oh certainly. “I don’t have to be concerned about Ahmed. I trust Elliott.”

…

Margaret could not stand the tension that was in her house once the three of them returned. Instead, she packed up her fishing rod and bait and excused herself to go do some fishing. It would let her think and get her away from the looks Elliott kept giving her. She wanted an explanation, but in all honestly she did not think he was obligated to give her one.

With her sore knee, Margaret decided to sit on the pier down by the forest lake. Popping in an ear bud, she cast out a line and sank into the quiet of her mind, letting it wander wherever it pleased. It didn’t wander too far, as she heard the sounds of footsteps on the dock behind her. She paused her music and pulled out the earbud, waiting for whoever it was to announce themselves.

“Hey,” Shane stood by her side, hands stuffed in his usual hoodie. “Didn’t expect to see you out and about after yesterday. Didn’t Harvey tell you to take it easy?”

Swallowing, Margaret shrugged, “I needed to get off of the farm.”

“Problems with Elliott already?” She could hear his sarcasm, but there was a casual amount of curiosity.

Apparently that talk she was going to have with him was sooner than she thought. Smashing her anxiety down, she responded with what she knew was too much ease, “One of Elliott’s exes showed up at the farm out of nowhere. I didn’t like how he looked at me, like I was… inferior.”

Shane took that as a sign to sit down next to her. “Ouch. Sounds like you need to vent.”

“I shouldn’t.” There was no way she was going to complain to Shane about the weird marriage situation she was in at the moment. Margaret sighed, then paused to reel in the line after feeling it twitch in her hands. Of course it was just a bunch of garbage. “But Elliott told me that we should talk.”

“Ah,” Shane scratched at his unshaven beard. “You’re being awfully to the point for once.” He sighed, waiting for Margaret to respond and continuing on when she didn’t. “I don’t know what to tell you, Margaret. I thought…” He clenched and unclenched his hand. “I thought we had something, so when I hear that all of a sudden you’re marrying pretty boy, I...”

Margaret bit her lip, wanting to reach out and comfort him but too afraid to hurt him more. “Shane, I am so, so, so sorry for the hurt I caused you. I should have made it clear.”

“Yeah, yeah you should have,” Shane’s eyes were wet, but no tears fell. “I thought you cared about me. You said you would be there for me no matter what. But you lied to me, Margaret. You lied to a whole lot of people.”

“I know,” Margaret replied, heart thudding too hard in her chest. The lies were not going to get any easier. “And I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I led you on and hurt you. I would understand if you didn’t want to even be my acquaintance. Even then, I will support you any way I can as a friend.”

Shane sucked in a shuddering breath, “Oh just shut up. I know that, Margaret. You’re too damn good of a person, which is what made the truth hurt all the more.” He picked at the fraying hem of his shorts, not looking up at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll forgive you, eventually. I’m not sure when. Probably once it doesn’t hurt to look at you or Elliott.”

Nodding, Margaret felt some relief, even as she felt shame course through her. “Take the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, stubbornly wiping at his eyes. “Now, please bitch about this ex. I feel better when I hear about shitty people.”

Margaret snorted, “Secretly, I do too. Oh how I loved to hear about awful people, but everyone in Pelican Town is so… good. Anyways, this guy shows up out of nowhere, wanting to surprise Elliott with a visit. He looks like he’s supposed to be walking down a runway, not staring down my farm like he would rather be anywhere else. He had no clue Elliott and I were married, either. Expected that Elliott would just be waiting for him after leaving to study abroad for six years without a word.”

“Okay, that’s kind of fucked up,” Shane shook his head. “How’d he find you two if they haven’t talked in years?”

“His parents,” Margaret smiled slightly, but it dropped from her face. “When he found out we were married, the look he gave me. I know I’m no model, but damn did he make me feel like a piece of shit and not worthy of Elliott. He tried to back track and apologize, but it wasn’t too convincing. I’m trying to feel bad for him, since he thought Elliott and him were together, but six years? And he just waltzes up to my farm like he could buy it all?”

Whistling, Shane leaned back on his hands, “This is the first time I’ve heard you worked up over a person and not JoJo Mart. He really got under your skin.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Margaret huffed. “I just don’t like the way he assumes.”

Shane paused, “Are you worried about Elliott?”

“Everyone keeps mentioning that,” muttering, Margaret angrily twitched her fishing rod into the lake. “I don’t think so, but everyone else seems to think I should be.”

“They didn’t get closure,” Shane pointed out.

If only there was a way to tell Shane she wasn’t worried because there was an expiration date already set into the marriage. That if Elliott really wanted to be with Ahmed, he would just have to wait two weeks. “I’ll be worried when Elliott gives me a reason to be. He married me, not Ahmed.”

From nowhere, Shane produced a bottle of mineral water and cracked it open, “Fair enough. But really, what a dick.”

Margaret’s mouth settled into a straight line as she felt a fish tug at her hand, “Yeah, what a dick.”

…

“We have a lot to talk about,” were Elliott’s first words when the door closed behind them that night.

Yoba, with all of these talks she was going to get a headache. She began unbuttoning her flannel, turning away from him, “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to say. If you still have feelings for him is business between the two of you. Shane and I talked and things were explained, so please don’t worry that anymore.”

He paused, “You’re mad.”

Margaret limped over to the hamper, throwing the dirty flannel in there and began working on extracting herself from her mud covered jeans. Turning back to Elliott, she took in his defensive stance and deflated, “I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to hurt Shane, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did. And then suddenly Ahmed shows up.”

“I was just as surprised by him showing up,” Elliott ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up. He sat down roughly on the bed, “It had been six years. Why now?”

“I don’t know,” Margaret shook her head. 

He sighed, loosening his tie and patting the space next to him, “Come here. I need to explain what Ahmed and I talked about.”

Crossing her arms, Margaret walked over to stand in front of him. Waited for him to speak.

He ran a hand down her arm, letting her grab onto his hand and pulling her to straddle his lap. Margaret wondered when and how they had become so comfortable with each other. “I told Ahmed the truth about our marriage.”

Blinking slowly, Margaret let herself absorb the possible meaning of his words. “Okay.” She distanced herself from her emotions, carefully constructing a wall around her heart brick by brick.

“I also told him that there was nothing more than friendship between us,” Elliott continued, hands holding onto her backside.

She blinked again, putting another brick down before sparks of hope could fly out, “Well, that’s that then. I can’t imagine he took that well.”

Elliott allowed himself a small smirk, “’No, he did not. Ahmed was always very… possessive. He wanted to know why, and I told him it was because it seemed my heart has made this valley its home.”

Smiling a bit at that, Margaret felt herself relax a little. “I can relate.”

He chuckled at that and pulled her closer, “So don’t worry. You won’t walk in on us doing anything other than exchanging words.”

Margaret flushed, “Not my first thought, but I appreciate it.” She wrapped her arms around him, letting herself lean into his embrace.

After a moment, Elliott muttered against her neck, “How is your knee?”

“A little sore, but much better,” Margaret raised an eyebrow, “But you’re wanting to know because of more than just my health.”

“I have been caught red-handed,” Elliott chuckled, the air tickling her neck. “However, the doctor was very insistent on low activity levels.”

Rolling her eyes, “A farmer who doesn’t do much is not a farmer.”

Elliott’s fingers began to caress the skin above her jeans, dipping lower. “He also wanted me to extend this to our bed.”

“I’m fine,” Margaret almost whined. “You rarely start things, I’ll be damned if I let you get away because of a damn knee.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, “We shouldn’t.” Even as he said that, he bucked up against her.

“If you really don’t want to, just tell me.” She rolled her hips against his, “But unless you do, you’re going to have to tie me up to stop.”

Elliott hummed in response, “Oh great temptress, if you were only serious.”

“I am,” Margaret sighed, sinking into the feeling of Elliott’s lazy lips travelling down her throat, only to pause at her words. “Elliott, I would let you tie me up and do any number of things to me because I trust you.”

He took a great shuddering breath against her collarbone, “And here I believed you to be a saint.”

A laugh rumbled through her, “Elliott, if you only knew.”

A low groan hit the hollow of her throat, pressing a kiss there before making his way to her mouth. “One day, I want to listen to all of those thoughts you keep secreting away. At this moment, I want to hear my name on your lips.”

“Ahmed might hear us,” Margaret sighed as Elliott kissed her in response.

As Elliott pulled away, he brushed some hair from her face, “Let him. Perhaps it will help him move on.”

Pausing, Margaret gave him a look, “That’s mean and petty, Elliott.”

“You’re right, I suppose I’ll just have to make sure you aren’t too loud,” Elliott conceded as his hands slipped into her pants.

Perhaps things were not as bad as she thought, as she let Elliott lay her down and undress her. Perhaps some miracle will happen and this marriage turned into the real thing, she thought as she helped him slip off his clothes. And as she sunk down onto him, sighing at the feeling of Elliott filling her, encouraging her with pretty words and endearments normally saved for a true lover, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll update sooner than once every month! Things are getting complicated. Things might get more complicated. Things might get less complicated. Or maybe they'll figure out all of their problems through sex! :D We'll just have to see!
> 
> Thanks for your continued support! ♥


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

It was early the next morning when Ahmed approached her. Margaret was in the process of making her morning cup of tea and cereal when she heard the floorboards creak behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she took in Ahmed’s early morning mess and turned back to her tea. If he was going to attempt to murder her, it would be very hard to since she was standing in front of the knife rack.

“Good morning, Ahmed. Did you sleep well?” She kept her voice down, not wanting to wake anyone else.

“I did, all things considered,” Ahmed responded, taking in a deep breath that signaled he had more to say.

Bracing herself for his scrutiny, Margaret grabbed her breakfast and moved to the kitchen table. If he was going to lay into her, she didn’t want it to interrupt her time to eat. The sooner she ate, the sooner she was able to relax between the rows of crops and her animals. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’m afraid Elliott is the one who knows how to use the coffee maker and I make a very bad cup of it on my own.”

He folded his arms, wrinkling his expensive silk pajamas more than they already were from a night on her couch. “Tea, please. Do you have earl grey?”

“No, but I have some breakfast teas, various black teas, some rooibos, and vast amounts of green tea.” Margaret moved swiftly past him to pull down the various teas. Anyone who requested tea from her was not likely to be in a rush to murder her before having their cup.

“The breakfast will be fine,” Ahmed sounded as uncomfortable as she felt. “Do you have milk?”

“If I did not have milk, I would be a very poor farmer,” Margaret pointed to the fridge, “I hope you like whole, nonhomogenized milk. I just had it pasteurized yesterday.”

She heard the fridge door open and close as she poured him a cup of tea. “I am sure I will survive.”

Once they were both sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen table, Ahmed was finally able to spit the words he was thinking out. “I’m sorry for barging in and making a terrible mess of things.”

“It’s okay. Just… awkward timing.” Margaret blinked, not expecting Ahmed to be so open and apologetic. “Come back in a week and a half and Elliott will be available for you to sweep off his feet.” As much as Elliott’s pretty words had comforted her last night, her nightmares had quickly reminded her of what to expect once his parents left.

Ahmed attempted to smooth back the mess of his hair, the gel that was in it cracking slightly, “I do not think I am welcome in that capacity. Which… given the circumstances, I can honor that. I may have been a little thick headed in thinking that six years of no communication would not leave a wound.”

Unable to help herself, Margaret raised a single eyebrow at him while taking a bite of her cereal, sorting out her thoughts. After swallowing, she responded, “I am sure Elliott would be happy to have you around. It can get lonely in the valley if you don’t have many friends.”

“What do you mean? He has you, at least.” Ahmed’s brow wrinkled in confusion, long fingers wrapping around the warm mug of tea in front of him.

She looked at him over the rim of her mug as she took a long drink. Elliott had mentioned a couple of times about how lonely it could get out at his cabin. He thought he needed seclusion to help him write, but it seemed that he also needed friends and a social life. “He needs more than just me,” Margaret said at last. “I’m only one person.”

“Aren’t you worried about me cutting into your territory?” Ahmed’s voice was incredulous and he still looked confused.

Giving him a sharp glance, Margaret frowned. “Elliott told me that he told you about the circumstances of our marriage.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahmed waved his hand, a gesture often mirrored in Elliott, “I understand that. What I don’t understand is why he chose you and why you two are sharing a bed despite the illusion of marriage.”

Slightly taken aback, Margaret tucked an errant strand of hair behind her head. “It’s because I own a successful farm, with a farmhouse large enough to house four people comfortably. I have a difficult time saying no to a friend in need. As for our relationship, that’s frankly none of your business, Ahmed.”

Ahmed narrowed his eyes, assessing her. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe there are no feelings between you two.”

“I can,” Margaret stood up, dumping the rest of her food as she discovered a sudden loss of appetite. “If Elliott or his parents need me, I will be out in my fields.” She left, feeling Ahmed’s glare between her shoulder blades.

She went about her chores with a quiet ferocity that lit a fire under her ass. With the speed of someone determined to not think of her romantic life, she finished them faster than she ever had before. Once she was safely inside the barn, Margaret dropped down into a pile of warm hay. Rubbing her face thoroughly, Margaret felt the careful mouthing of one of her animals against her head. Opening her eyes, she smiled at Storm, scratching the calf’s jaw to her delight. Storm plopped right down next to her, draping her already heavy head over stomach and sighing contentedly when Margaret began to pet her.

Elliott found her that way an hour later, surrounded by her animals as they attempted to lay down and take a nap alongside her. Taking the image in for later inspiration on an unconventional princess, he tried his best to tip toe around the lying bodies to rest a hand on Margaret’s shoulder.

Jumping in her skin, Margaret looked up at Elliott. The early morning light cast a halo effect on Elliott, lighting up his hair and skin as he smiled down at her with enough tenderness to make her heartbeat pick up. Swallowing drily, Margaret moved carefully out from under the animals, taking Elliott’s hand.

He pulled her up into his arms and stole her breath with a kiss. Elliott broke away with a chuckle as he pulled some hay from her hair, “Good morning, Margaret. I trust the animals kept you warm?”

Margaret blushed, her fingers reflexively curling into his coat, “Good morning. They did, though I only remember the one being there. Did you need something?”

It was Elliott’s turn to blush, “I could not help but overhear the conversation between you and Ahmed. I wanted to apologize for his behavior. He normally is very polite and a gentleman.”

Holding up a hand, Margaret stopped him, “You don’t have to apologize for him. He’s not your responsibility, Elliott. He’s a grown man. If he truly wanted to apologize, he would do it himself.”

Bashful, Elliott bobbed his head, “I suppose you are right. I just did not like the thought of him upsetting you. However, I also desire to tell you the truth, Margaret.”

Suddenly wary, Margaret pushed her emotions away, preparing for bad news. “What is it?”

“When Ahmed asked if there were any emo-“ Elliott cut himself off, whirling around to see Owen the goat attempting to eat the tail of his coat. A range of expressions crossed his face before settling on mild horror, “Excuse me!”

Struggling to not laugh, Margaret reached into her pocket for something to better occupy Owen’s mouth. “Sorry about that, Elliott. Owen tends to not know how to read a situation, much like her namesake.” She brushed some of the spit off of his coat, looking for any damage. “I can repair that rip.”

Sighing, Elliott pulled her back into his arms, “Never mind that. Now, there are things that I must explain and I request your focused and undivided attention.”

“You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” Margaret’s stomach flopped, but she tried to remain serious and not joke her way out of the sudden weight of their conversation.

“Not worried, no,” Elliott quickly brushed that away. “In fact, it will be a relief to get this off of my chest. I had hoped that maybe you had noticed from my affecti- again?”

It was Margaret’s turn to sigh, this time gently pulling Elliott’s other coat tail from Shaun the sheep’s mouth. “Let’s just go outside. The animals are less likely to go after your clothing.”

Thoroughly flustered, Elliott guided her by the arm through the door, coughing lightly to mask his obvious embarrassment. “Now, as I was attempting to say-“

“Yes?” Margaret prompted, growing impatient from the interruptions.

Shaking his head, Elliott stopped her to look at him. “I was hoping for a better suited setting, but this will have to do.” He took a deep breath, a nervous smile on his lips, “I am unsure as to when it happened, but I can say with great certainty that I am undoubtedly, utterly in-“

“Peggy! Elliott!!” Elliott’s mother’s voice rang out across the farm, causing them to jump. “What is this I found here?”

Elliott threw up his hands, words foul enough to curdle her cow’s milk streaming from his mouth with a creativity that only a poet could conjure. “I admit defeat, universe! Apparently the world is bound and determined to silence me.” He pulled a small notebook from an inside pocket of his coat and pressed it into her hands, his blush growing deeper. “Please, just read this. It better explains what I have been trying to say for the past ten minutes than any words I could say to your face. Talk to me once you finish it.” 

Taking the moleskin and carefully sliding it into her pocket, Margaret looked Elliott over, completely confused by his words and actions. “Okay, Elliott.” She put a hand on his shoulder, starting to feel a little concerned for him. “Are you okay?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Elliott groaned, “I need time alone and at least two bottles of wine. Let’s go before Mother shouts again.”

“I have some iridium-quality pomegranate wine in the cellar that you’re welcome to.” Margaret tugged him along, folding her hand into the crook of his arm like it was meant to be there. “Sneak away to your cabin if you need to rest. I’ll tell everyone that you needed somewhere quiet to work.”

“Margaret,” Elliott sighed, patting her hand, “You are far too good to me. But alas, I should not run from my problems any more than I currently am.”

The two of them were greeted at the door by a somewhat enthusiastic Eleanor, who seemed to be positively vibrating from waiting for them. Garrett gave the two of them an apologetic look. Ahmed seemed to have tasted something particularly sour for the look on his face.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but I went to the bathroom and it popped out of the cabinet and I just had to know, what with the rumors and the sudden marriage,” Eleanor seemed to be holding a box, and the pit in Margaret’s stomach fell away.

Elliott stepped forward, trying to get a look at the box for the pregnancy test Harvey had given her, “What is it, Mother?”

Eleanor looked directly at Margaret, “Are you pregnant?”

Wide-eyed, Elliott gave Margaret a panicked look. This was definitely not in the plan. She couldn’t gauge what Elliott’s facial features were trying to tell her and she was beginning to panic as well. Wouldn’t it just be easier to say the truth? Oh but everyone besides Ahmed had such hopeful looks, she could see it in Elliott’s face. What did that mean?

Margaret eventually found the words, her tongue stumbling over them, “I was hoping to wait to announce it after the first trimester, but…”

Running over, Eleanor gave her a hard hug, “Oh what wonderful news! Garrett, they’re having a baby!”

Chuckling, Garrett stood and patted Elliott on the shoulder, “Congratulations, Peggy and Eli. I had suspected, but I did not want to assume.”

Elliott laughed nervously with his father, grabbing and squeezing Margaret’s hand briefly, “Once we found out Margaret was expecting, we knew it was time to take the next step in our relationship. I wanted to be there for Margaret and our child.”

Obviously not fooled, Ahmed rolled his eyes before giving a smile lacking in any sort of sincerity, “Congratulations to the happy couple. We ought to go out and celebrate.”

“A fantastic idea, Ahmed!” Eleanor seemed oblivious to the barbs in Ahmed’s words, swinging around and enveloping Elliott in a hug. “I don’t know why we ever doubted you would be okay out on your own, Elliott.” 

“I had planned on suggesting that Elliott do a book signing back home, but perhaps we could combine that with a baby shower?” Garrett folded his arms, looking contemplatively at the two of them. “Though it may be hard to get away from your farm.”

Margaret flashed Elliott a look, the wild panic she felt reflected in his eyes. Swallowing, Margaret gave an uneasy smile, “We would have to talk about it more in depth. If it is at the correct time of the season… then why not?”

...

“What are we going to do about this?” Margaret kept her voice low once she retired for the night, knowing full well that the walls were not as soundproof as she would have liked.

Elliott loosened his tie and slipped his coat off. “The plot thickens, as one would say. There is no easy answer.”

“Should I have said no?” Biting her lip, Margaret slipped out of her clothing and into her nightgown.

“Well,” Elliott sighed, unbuttoning his shirt and casting it aside, “It would have made things easier. However, I believe we may be able to salvage this ruse yet.”

Leveling a look at him, Margaret tried to not sound too sarcastic as she asked, “Are you about to suggest actually having a child together?” Even if she was in love with him, there were lines she wasn’t about to cross.

He had been working on his belt buckle, but held his hands up in surrender at her words. His face was almost as red of his hair and he responded quickly, “No! Primarily because it would take far too much time, but there are other reasons…” His eyes skid away from her in embarrassment.

Pausing, Margaret looked at him, and cocked her head. Was he flustered because of her? “Not because you wouldn’t want to have a child… with me?” The thought that his primary reason was because of the time scale and not because of her probably should have annoyed her – that it wasn’t his first thought that it was asking too much of her. It didn’t, oddly enough.

Either he could read her mind (which would be rather unfortunate, given the number of times she has thought about how much she loves him in the past week and a half), or they were on a similar wavelength. “I am already such a burden on you. I am not so selfish as to ask that of you.”

“Thank you,” Margaret muttered, crossing her arms. He hadn’t answered her question, not really. She took it to mean that was among the other reasons. Taking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly before continuing, “So, do you have an idea then?”

Seemingly happy with the change in topic, he perked up and continued undressing. “This may only work if everyone in town, along with my family, assumes we married due to the pregnancy.”

“Okay,” she prompted him onwards, moving to lay down on her side of the bed.

“So, what might happen if you were no longer pregnant?” Elliott looked at her, sliding in next to her.

Margaret frowned, “There would be little reason for us to stay together.”

Nodding, Elliott laid on his side to look at her, hand resting on her hip. His touches seemed so normal now, so natural. “The only complication is in the form of Harvey.”

Her fingers traced shapes on his bicep, sorting out her thoughts, “I can take care of Harvey; don’t worry about him. It would save our reputations. And you wouldn’t have to tell your parents the truth.”

Elliott hummed, “Your mind is as sharp as ever.” He pulled her in closer, tucking her head under his chin.

“Shush you,” Margaret pressed a kiss to his collarbone, feeling him shudder against her. She waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, she thought of their earlier attempt at conversation. “What did you want to talk about earlier?”

Stiffening slightly, Elliott said, “Have you read the book I gave you?”

“After your mother’s interruption, I haven’t had the chance. Why?” Margaret tried to crane her head back to see his expression, but it was uncharacteristically guarded.

He relaxed against her, “Do not worry until after you have read the book.”

Propping herself up to look down at him, Margaret tried to decide whether or not to push him. If it was truly important, he would tell her. He tried to not push her, and so she would not push him. “Okay, Elliott.”

Elliott smiled up at her wearily, “Such an intense gaze! I feel as if you are trying to seduce me with such an assessing look.”

A blush made its way across her cheeks and down her neck, “It wasn’t my intention… but if you’re wanting to…”

“Margaret,” he chuckled, “As enjoyable as our moments of intimacy are, I must call for a break tonight. I find myself rather exhausted and would be a most inadequate lover in my current state.”

She smiled down at him, not surprised that even when he seemed on the verge of sleeping that he could be eloquent. “That’s okay.” Reaching over, she brushed some hair behind his ears and settled her hand along his jaw. “You’ve had a long day, go to sleep.”

“Come ‘ere,” Elliott mumbled, patting the space where she had been. “Even if I am incapacitated, you are a most agreeable cuddling companion.”

Trying not to chuckle too loudly, Margaret pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning off the light. Snuggling back into his chest, Margaret did her best to not think about what her life in the next couple of weeks might look like. She wondered briefly how she was going to learn to sleep in the big bed by herself again. It made her heart physically ache, and so she pushed herself closer into Elliott. It was to his gentle snores and warm arms that she finally fell into a deep sleep, full of dreams of a small, happy family of three that lived on a quiet farm.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bribing the town doctor + train ride shenanigans*.
> 
> * = and by shenanigans I mean semi-public nervous distraction sex

“I assume you’ve come in to schedule your prenatal checkups?” Harvey grinned, looking about as self-satisfied as if he had known of her pregnancy all along.

“Actually,” Margaret began delicately, “Could we discuss something in private, please?”

Looking up from the calendar he had already grabbed, Harvey gave her an odd look, “Are you planning on a home-birth? I know they’ve been gaining popularity, but they are rather risky if we don’t monitor your health properly. We are also a little far from the nearest hospital if anything does go wrong during the delivery.”

A deep breath helped her resolve as she once again pushed Harvey, “It’s something a little more sensitive than that, I’m afraid.”

Cuing in on the suffocating amount of awkwardness she must have been producing, Harvey backed away from the counter of his clinic. “We can talk in my office.”

Margaret put on a brave face as she felt Harvey’s eyes on her in the walk to his office, closing the door behind her and sitting down in the chair he gestured her to. “I’m not pregnant.”

He blinked twice, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Are you sure? Sometimes those tests are inaccurate,” Harvey continued, almost looking ready to get up and grab another.

“Harvey,” Margaret stopped him. Her cheeks burned red, “The first time I had sex was only four days ago.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He had the professional grace to not stutter or blush as Harvey reassessed his thoughts. “Then you are most certainly not pregnant. What’s wrong then? Have you been using protection? Are you experiencing any pain during sex?”

This was not the conversation she wished to have with him. Wishing she could crawl in a hole, Margaret shrank in her chair and hid her very red face from Harvey. “You know as well as I do that I am on birth control. And no, there is absolutely no problems there.” Before Harvey could open his mouth again, she interjected, “The problem is, I told my in-laws that I am pregnant. So naturally, all of Pelican Town thinks that I am pregnant.”

Harvey seemed to be the picture of confusion, wrinkled brow and all. “Why not tell them the truth?”

“It’s… complicated.” Margaret reasoned he did not need to know that her marriage was fake. “I just need you to tell everyone that I am. Once my in-laws are gone, I will pretend to have a miscarriage. Everything will be fine.”

Still very obviously confused, Harvey took a moment to respond, “You want me to lie to everyone in town?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s the only option that makes sense to Elliott and me.” Margaret sighed, wondering when her life had become so complicated.

Harvey laid his hands on his desk, “I can’t. It would ruin my reputation as a doctor in this town if they discovered I lied for you.”

“Please, Harvey,” Margaret reached out, covering his hands with her own. “We would be in your debt. You can have some of my finest wines, your choice.”

She must have looked pitiful enough, because Harvey leaned back, taking his hands with him and pinching the bridge of his nose. Settling his glasses back in place, he sighed. “Very well. I’ll do this for you, but I need wine and pickles.”

“Done,” Margaret declared. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out some iridium quality peach wine, “For starters, here’s one that I’ve been keeping in my cellar since last summer.”

He sighed loudly and took the bottle, “When did I become so soft?”

Laughing lightly, Margaret got to her feet and went to the door, “I don’t think that’s a quality you’ve just suddenly achieved.”

A roll of the eyes was her only goodbye as she made her way out of the clinic. She had a couple more destinations before the day was through, and quite a bit more begging to do in that time. Squaring her shoulders, Margaret walked onward to her next destination.

…

“Are you quite alright with this?” Elliott asked for the hundredth time.

Glancing up through her eyelashes, Margaret returned to buttoning her blouse. “Yes. I’ve spent the last four days building enough sprinklers to water all of my crops. Sam and Shane have been given instructions on what to do, with Sam looking after the crops and Shane after the animals. I just planted a bunch of new seeds yesterday, so Sam should not have to do much besides looking out for weeds and pests.” Both had looked at her wide-eyed when she offered a large pay for helping her out. It was a good idea, since the two were still hurting from losing their jobs at JoJo Mart. It worked out for everyone that way.

Elliott shifted on his feet, picking at his coat, “I still feel entirely guilty about how much trouble I am putting you through.”

She smiled at him. He had a point, but it didn’t exactly make her feel any better for him to be put out. “It will be okay. I haven’t visited Zuzu City in a long time, and I will try to make the most out of it by seeing my family and friends.”

Grimacing, Elliott gestured to her outfit, “Then why the fancy clothes?”

“Well,” she looked down at herself, already regretting putting on the tight pantyhose and skirt. While she had lost considerable weight since becoming a farmer, plenty of muscle had replaced the fat. She was honestly surprised she was able to wiggle into the skirt and pantyhose, along with one of her old blouses. When had she grown an ass? “I felt I had to look the part of your wife. City folk do not expect wives of respectable authors to go around covered in dirt and wearing flannels all the time.”

“It just looks… not you,” Elliott finished, a slight pout to his mouth. 

Laughing, Margaret patted his cheek, “It is me though. You knew me when I dressed like this almost every day.”

Still pouting, Elliott reached around her head to where she had pinned her hair into a respectable bun, “That is not who you are anymore. I know you were not happy then, and you’ve grown. Why should you have to look the part of my wife? Are you not enough?” He pulled at the pins, letting her hair fall over her shoulders and down her back. “That is a small improvement, at least.”

Her heart beat loudly in her chest at his words. Was he always so observant? Her thoughts jumped around her head, too fast for her to grab onto any to make sense of them. Margaret didn’t know what to do, so she deflected. “That’s all very nice, but even you must admit that my butt looks amazing in this skirt.”

The sigh he let out was loud and he looked to the heavens for guidance. “You are not wrong, you do look very nice. My point was,” he lingered, “you do not look yourself.”

“Perhaps I can convince you at a later time that it is still very much me under these clothes,” Margaret grinned, trying to further deflect his concern.

Rolling his eyes, Elliott shook his head, “You are insatiable.”

“If this is my only chance to experience any sort of married life, I might as well make the most of it,” she picked up her duffel bag and purse from the bed.

“You think far too poorly of yourself and your future.” There was a stubborn set to Elliott’s jaw, but he backed down and grabbed his own luggage. “Any should be glad to be the object of your affections.”

For a moment, Margaret thought about spilling her heart to him. Fear of the pain she might experience shut her up. So, she settled for a different sort of truth, “You know as well as I do that such emotions terrify me.”

Elliott moved to the door and held up a finger, almost waggling it at her if he would do such an undignified action. “That is precisely the problem! You must push that fear aside and stride boldly forward! Nothing is gained by not venturing forward!”

Reaching around him to turn the doorknob and open the door, Margaret smiled, “I’ve done well enough to this point in my life. Thank you for the advice.”

He draped his arm across her shoulders as they left the room, the action feeling absurdly natural to Margaret. There was a small sigh of reluctant acceptance from him, and he murmured under his breath, “Action must be taken, Margaret. You are not meant to be a passive being.”

For a moment she thought about asking if she had been passive while she had ridden his dick the other night. When Margaret caught sight of the others in her house, she decided it was probably not the best time to mention their sex life.

Ahmed gave her new appearance a curious once-over, hiding his surprise well. “Well, are we set to go?”

Checklist running through her mind, Margaret nodded after a moment, “Things should be good to go. Let me just check everything one more time.”

“Think you can check everything in less than ten minutes?” Garrett glanced at his watch, “The train should be coming soon.”

“Of course!” Margaret plastered a big smile onto her face and slipped out from underneath Elliott’s arm. Her heels clacked across the hardwood floor as she rushed through the house. “I’m not worried about anything outside of the house too much.”

The room she checked last was her bedroom, and she glanced around before spotting the journal Elliott had given her. She might as well take it, considering the time she would have on the train to and from. Grabbing the journal in her hand, she closed the bedroom door behind her and joined everyone else outside.

Elliott’s eyes latched onto the journal, fear and discomfort marring his features for a moment before settling back into a smile. “Are you ready to depart, my daisy?”

Bending down, Margaret gave Hunden a thorough scratch and a goodbye kiss before responding to him. “As ready as I ever will be, my poet.”

Ahmed’s eye roll was practically audible has he hurried them on, “The train?”

“Coming,” Margaret snorted at his discomfort.

Eleanor looped her arm through Margaret’s, leading her to the front of their parade as they made their way to the train station. It was probably for the best that Eleanor held onto Margaret as they climbed all the way up the mountain and up the stairs. By the time they stopped, everyone but Margaret was out of breath. All the while, they spoke about throwing the combined baby shower and book signing. Apparently Ahmed had already put out an electronic event on social media for the book signing, with a significant number of people interested in attending. It made Margaret cast a worried glance at Elliott, who seemed simultaneously pleased and queasy.

The train approached and the five of them purchased their tickets from the conductor. Sitting down in their compartment, Margaret tried to ignore the flutterings of unease in her stomach. It had been three years since she had come to the valley, and this would be her first time leaving. To go back to her hometown, no less. The place that created who she was while tearing her apart, piece by piece. She stared out the window as the train lurched into movement, gaining momentum and leaving Pelican Town after a few short moments. 

Her skin jumped out of her as a hand grabbed hers, and she turned to look at Elliott. He looked just about as well as she did, but he gave her a small smile.

Squeezing his hand, Margaret returned his uneasy smile. Surely he had to be thinking the same things she was. The solidarity was reassuring, and so she slipped her hand from his and went to open the journal he had given her. She began to read:

_If ever another set of eyes were to light upon these crafted words of mine, I should hope them to be the resplendent eyes of -_

Elliott’s hand quickly covered the rest of the words on the first page, his face red as her tomatoes. Everyone looked at him in confusion and he cleared his throat, carefully closing the journal in Margaret’s hands. “I remembered something of importance I wish to discuss with Margaret in private. We will return shortly.”

Placing the journal down where she was sitting, Margaret stood up and followed after Elliott as he made a hasty retreat. She tried to not look too confused about the fact that he had stopped her from reading the journal he had been telling her to read for the past five days. She trailed him into an empty compartment several doors down from the rest of their traveling companions. Closing and locking the door behind her, Margaret waited for Elliott to say something.

“Forgive me,” Elliott ran his hand through his hair. “My hand moved before my brain could begin to comprehend what I was doing.” He sat down roughly on the coach seat, still red in the face as he covered it with his hands.

Sitting down next to him, Margaret pulled his fingers away from his face. “It’s okay. I just thought you wanted me to read what you wrote in the journal.”

“I do!” Elliott gulped and loosened his neck tie. “Just… perhaps in not so public a place.”

Curiosity swelled in her and she leaned against him, “Why not?”

“It’s… embarrassing.” Elliott finished, his face flushing again.

Margaret raised an eyebrow, “Did you write something naughty in there?” When he didn’t respond, it was hard to keep from smiling and pushing closer to him. “I’m going to take that as a yes. You know, I have some experience reading smut in front of people, especially parents.”

Elliott gave her an odd look, “That is not wholly reassuring, given the content.”

Trying to decide whether to make him laugh or fluster him more, Margaret pursed her lips and hummed, “I’m not sure, I’ve read some incredibly dirty and kinky things in front of my own parents without breaking a sweat. Like, things that I would be horrified to repeat to people based on how disgusting and depraved they were. How bad could your smut be?”

He shifted in his seat, discomfort rising. “It may not be the what, but the who.”

Absorbing that without trying to read too much into it and give herself hope, Margaret paused. “Is the smut about me and you?”

Elliott was positively squirming.

“Well then,” Margaret took a deep breath, “I’m honored that I’m good enough to be written into smut.”

That got a small chuckle from Elliott, who seemed to relax when she didn’t freak out. “You have fed my muse often of late.”

“Now you have me curious. Is there any fantasy that just cannot leave you?” Margaret watched his eyes widen, blush intensifying. “I know I have some.”

“There are a couple,” he relented, eyes darkening.

Swallowing, Margaret moved her hand to his thigh, knowing full well that they were in a semi-public area. The window glass on the door to the compartment was incredibly frosted over to the point that anything on either side was no more than colors and the roughest of shapes. “I’ll start. I’ve always wanted to be tied down and made to cum over and over until I beg for no more.”

“Holy fuck,” Elliott’s eloquence left him at her words, eyes staring at her in a different light than she had ever seen him do so. She was fairly certain it was pure lust.

“What about you?” Margaret smiled, heat building low in her in a typical sign of her hormones jumping into action.

His eyes glanced to the door, coming to the same conclusion as she had moments before. Yoba, they were going to do this. “I have always been entranced by the idea of lipstick marks covering my dick.”

She slowly raised an eyebrow, bright red lips curling into a smirk, “We’re both very stressed out and in need of a distraction.”

His eyes focused on her lips, eyebrows raising, “You’re not suggesting-“

“You’re the one who told me to ‘stride boldly forward,’” Margaret pointed out, slipping onto the floor between his legs. “Why not start here?”

“That is not entirely what I meant,” Elliott’s eyes darkened nevertheless at her actions. “If we are to do this, I am not going to be the only one satisfied.”

Margaret paused, her hands halfway up the inside of his thighs. “What do you suggest with that brilliant writer’s mind of yours?”

His voice was quiet, a low rumble, “Stand up and remove your hose and underwear.” He reached across to pull the blind on the window closed, enveloping them in semi-darkness.

Grinning and way too turned on, Margaret did as he suggested, drinking in the way he looked at her as the garments slide down her legs. He pulled her by her thighs towards him, dragging her skirt up until she was exposed to his sight. He hummed and pulled her again, until she was hovering over his face with one leg propped up against the headrests. 

Elliott made eye contact with Margaret, his breath ghosting over her wet opening as he spoke, “Is this acceptable to you?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Margaret breathed, cautiously running a hand through his hair as the other helped to support the odd position she was in. It didn’t help that they were in a moving, bumping, train, but she didn’t precisely care at that moment. She just wanted him on her or in her. When did she become so desperate?

At the first touch of his tongue against her, she was already breathing hard and trying to not moan too loudly. After a few lazy strokes, she felt his determination suddenly skyrocket as his attention suddenly focused on her clit. Bringing the hand that had been in his hair to her mouth, she bit down to keep from keening out. Rocking against his mouth, Margaret threw back her head and sighed loudly. So quickly he was working her up with a single-minded determination that she was already beginning to feel the flutters of an orgasm. He slowed down, returning to dipping his tongue into her like a tease, the sounds their bodies made soft and wet. Then right back to sucking on her clit, the sudden change enough to almost tip her over the edge. She looked down at him, saw his eyes drinking in her every movement, every flutter of her muscles. He smiled against her, and one last hard stroke of his tongue gave her the orgasm she had been chasing. Elliott did not slow down, his tongue working at her harder until her muscles locked up tight and began shuddering in another release. It was only once Margaret grabbed his hair again that he stopped, moving away from her with his mouth and chin absolutely covered in her fluids.

Margaret had enough grace in her limbs to put her underwear back on before returning to Elliott. While she had been making herself look decent downstairs, he had pulled out a handkerchief and was wiping at his chin, a content smile on his face that was at odds with the obvious erection in his pants. She dropped back down to her knees, glad for the relief.

“That was amazing, Elliott. Now, you need to show me what you like so I can get this red lipstick all over you.” Margaret ran her hands down her blouse, opening up the buttons preemptively in case she wasn’t able to swallow it all. “Do you have a pen on you?”

He rolled his eyes, “Would I be myself if I did not, even in these circumstances?” With a flourish he presented her with a pen, a question in his eyes that was quickly answered when Margaret used it to put up her hair. “You seem… prepared for this scenario.”

Spreading her blouse open a little more and exposing more of her breasts and bra, Margaret shrugged and grinned, “I’ve watched a lot of porn. And listened to friends talk about giving their boyfriends blowjobs.”

His face flushed at her words, despite just eating her out vigorously moments ago. “When put that way…”

Elliott stopped stalling as Margaret unbuttoned his jacket, pulling it out of the way and moving to unbuckle his belt. Elliott helped her open his pants and to fish out his hard penis from within his pants, swallowing dryly as Margaret looked at him.

Making eye contact with him, Margaret wrapped one hand around the hilt of his shaft, slowly moving forward to kiss the head. She grinned as he moaned, eyes moving to the cherry-red lip print on his dick. The color suited him. Trying to not think too hard, she took the head in her mouth, glancing up at him for his reaction. His head was now thrown back, resting against the wall and she could see the blush reach down his neck. She liked his reaction, if not the taste. Taking him farther into her mouth, Margaret tried to keep an eye on his reactions while keeping her teeth away from his skin.

“Please, Margaret,” his voice was strained.

Not sure what that meant, she kept going until she could fit no more of him in her mouth without gagging. Gagging was decidedly not sexy at his moment. It was hard with the jerking movements of the train, but Margaret began to pull off of his dick. Her tongue laved along the bottom as she eventually got back up to only the head, sucking on it experimentally. Elliott bucked in her mouth, leading to hushed apologies and Margaret trying to not laugh around a mouth full of dick. But eventually she got the hang of things, sucking lightly as she moved up and down over his skin. Pause, lick and tongue at the head, move down. She began to quicken her pace, trying to be unpredictable and throw him for a slight loop every time she worked harder. Whatever she was doing, it was working. Elliott was an absolute mess, melting into a puddle in her hands with soft whispers of pet names and recited poetry. Margaret could get used to this.

Given enough time for a warning, Margaret was able to prepare herself for when Elliott came. Thankfully, the taste was not as awful as she had always assumed it would be. Even with swallowing most of his cum, some still spilled onto her breasts.

“Whoops,” she looked down after her mouth was clear, the words a little slurred from how sore her jaw felt.

Elliott looked down at her, to his dick covered in lines and smears of lipstick, then to her breasts. He seemed absolutely delighted and ashamed, “Let me help you clean yourself.” Still boneless, he pushed himself back into his pants and righted himself before pulling her into his lap. He grabbed the handkerchief from earlier and wiped the rest of the cum off of her chest before kissing the spots it had been. “That was wonderful. I would not have known this was your first time using your mouth in such a way.”

“No need to flatter me,” Margaret pulled him into a kiss, still tasting herself on his tongue and got hot at the fact that he could also taste himself on her. No time for another round, though. “But I will need to freshen up and you will need to get the lipstick off of your lips.”

When they returned to their proper compartment, all was in order. They smiled at the other three and took their spots. Totally inconspicuous looking, not at all like they had just pleasured each other a couple compartments down or anything.

As Margaret looked back out of the window, she chuckled to herself as she thought about how they had managed to distract themselves for at least a portion of the trip. Now if only the rest would go as smoothly, things would be fantastic. She wasn’t about to hold her breath. So, she smiled as Elliott took her hand in his and began to read his own book, oblivious to the world. Margaret just kept to watching the mountains grow smaller and buildings grow taller, unease settling back into her stomach.

She was back in Zuzu City, for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a moment, hasn't it?
> 
> So sorry for the lack of updates! I'm five weeks away from graduating from my undergrad, and things have been crazy (to understate it). Chances of me updating in the next five weeks are slim, just due to the nature of literally everything happening at once. After graduation though, I may go back to the old weekly schedule! Plus I have a couple ideas for some fics after I conclude this one ;)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me through the crazy updates!
> 
> Anyone excited for the new Chucklefish game, Spellbound?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuzu City ahead! More of meeting the parents! Heck, even I was incredibly soft while writing this chapter so gird your hearts for this

The moment she stepped off of the train and onto one of the many train tracks of Zuzu Central Station, Margaret felt the anxiety in the air. She saw how people saw the people around them only as occupied spaces to be avoided. Instantly, her brain began to translate the busy urban language that everyone new to the city stumbled over. It was an old language, just as familiar as it was for her to breathe. She absolutely hated it. On instinct she felt the urge to check a smart phone she no longer owned for emails and calendar reminders, and she had to fight to remind herself that she was no longer that person.

Eleanor and Garrett had left their car at home, deciding the taxi fare would be cheaper than parking it in the garage over the week they would be gone. So, Margaret had arranged for her family to meet them.

The instant she saw the warm faces of her parents, it was hard to not burst into tears. Margaret could not remember the last time she had seen them face to face, and to see how quickly they had aged hurt. Nevertheless, her face split into a wide grin as they spotted her as well.

Her mother was the first one to hug her after enthusiastically yelling, “Welcome home, Peggy!” Mother’s green eyes wrinkled in the corners as she smiled and held her, taking her in. “You look well! And tan! You really are working hard!”

Margaret laughed and shrugged, “I’m glad to see you two.”

“You haven’t been home in a while, have you?” Her father scooped her up into a big hug once her mother let go. Giving a tight squeeze, he let her go to look at everyone else, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Terry.”

“And I’m Neen.” Mother slipped an arm around Father, their usual stance when meeting people.

“Ah, I guess I better introduce everyone, then,” Margaret ducked, feeling like a child again in front of her parents. In introducing everyone, her nervousness grew tenfold as her parents sized up Elliott.

They looked at him hard, even though they were smiling. Seeing as she had never been in any sort of relationship before, she could only imagine what was going through her parent’s minds at that moment. There had already been one very long phone talk the first time Margaret had called to plan. It was only a matter of time before Elliott got the next wave of her parents’ questions and prying.

“I can take Peggy and Elliott in my car, if you’ll take the others in the van,” her father nodded towards the two of them. “We will need help with directions to your house.” He began to fish out his car keys.

Steeling herself, Peggy smiled and nodded, “Of course, that would be great. Thank you, Dad.”

“You’re lucky your brother didn’t take the van to college this semester, otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to pick everyone up.” Her mother grabbed the car keys from her purse, “Well, we might as well head out before the station gets any busier.”

The beginning of the car ride was tense, especially as Margaret took the passenger seat and Elliott slid into the seat behind her. There was an awkward pause as her father inputted the address into the car’s GPS and drove away, before he spoke again.

“So, care to explain how all of this happened?” Her father’s voice was almost too smooth, a tone that Margaret had heard only a couple of times in her life. It wasn’t a great tone, and one that still put a childish fear of being in trouble in her.

Before she could speak up, Elliott answered, “Our marriage is a falsehood, brought together only to allow me to continue to live in Pelican Town with my parents’ consent.”

“Elliott!” Margaret gasped and looked at her father, who cast his blue eyes in the mirror to hold Elliott’s stare. That had not been part of the plan.

“I am afraid I dragged your daughter into my family’s affairs, and I am terribly sorry for the trouble, sir. The lie has since spiraled out of control, thus involving your family now.” Elliott’s face held even with her father’s intimidating presence. Margaret had often reflected that she had received that ability to project an intimidating aura from him. It had never failed her, and for Elliott to not break under her father’s was impressive to say the least.

Returning his eyes to the road, her father sighed, “I can’t say Margaret didn’t get caught up in someone’s troubles. She could never say no to a friend in trouble. Got that trait from me.” He glanced at her, a small smile on his face, “I am guessing that means you’re not pregnant.”

Her face flushed, “Of course not, Dad! I have some common sense, thank you very much.”

“As I said, Mr. Cloudroad, any contact between the two of us is for the sake of appearances.” Elliott coughed into his fist to hide his own blush.

Liar, Margaret thought to herself. Considering the fact that she had just sucked him off after he ate her out only two hours ago, there could not have been a bigger lie he could’ve said. Unless it really was all for appearances…

“Just doing my fatherly duty. You never know these days and you remember your one cousin,” her father chuckled, seemingly in a better mood.

Scrunching up her face, Margaret muttered, “I’d like to think my life is more put together than hers, I disapprove of that comparison.”

“Hm,” her father nodded, “That is certainly true. So, have you told your mother?”

“No, that was not really in the plan,” Margaret admitted. “You’ve taken this surprisingly well. You’re not going to tell on us?”

Her dad was quiet for a moment, “No, I won’t. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if you would ever get married, so I’m actually a little disappointed.” He turned to look and raised his brows, “I would like grandchildren at some point, you know. I’m definitely not getting any from your sister, and it would be a miracle if your brother could look up from a screen long enough to talk to a girl.”

Sliding down in her seat, Margaret groaned and covered her face. She could practically feel Elliott’s stare of surprise. “Having a kid and running your own farm is very hard, Dad.”

“Hire help with all that money you have. Even better, actually find a husband.” His eyes flicked up to meet Elliott’s face, “No offense.”

Sounding very confused, Elliott responded, “None taken, I think?”

“I’d really rather not talk about this with my fake husband in the car, Dad.” Margaret groaned into her hands, wondering what she did wrong for the universe to do this to her.

“Excuse me,” Elliott sounded more comfortable, “we are technically married under the law.”

The car skidded.

“But-” Elliott continued hastily, “we are getting a divorce, Mr. Cloudroad.” He laughed nervously.

“After we make it appear like I have a miscarriage.” Margaret grinned at the growing smile on her father’s face.

Shaking his head, her father muttered, “You two are crazy.”

Cheesing it up, Margaret chirped, “Oh most certainly. But I got it from my parents.”

He snorted in response as he pulled into a parking spot in front of a decent sized two flat, “You got it from your mother. Is this the correct address?”

“Ah, yes it is,” Elliott looked at the house with a mild amount of trepidation in his eyes. “Thank you for helping us keep the secret.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” her father replied. “I trust I can inform your mother of the true circumstances surrounding this trip?”

“Of course,” Margaret sighed, a weight that had settled over her shoulders lifting. She reached for the door as Elliott exited the car, pausing as her father grabbed her hand.

He looked at her with a sad little smile, “You know you can visit us without coming up with some insane story, right?”

Blinking, Margaret stuttered, “I know. It’s just hard with the farm…”

“Your mother and I get that, but it would be nice to see you more than just once every two and a half years.” He smiled and patted her hand. “Now go on and grab your Elliott.”

Rolling her eyes, Margaret stepped out of the car and retrieved her luggage. She and Elliott exchanged a glance where he raised a single eyebrow. She shook her head in response, not wanting to go into that right now. There was enough to do in the next couple of days.

The other car pulled up behind her father’s, everyone laughing as they left the van. Ahmed was wheezing, almost able to get words out until he saw Margaret’s very confused face. It appeared that he was out of commission, leaving Margaret very concerned over what her mother had to have said to garner this reaction.

“What is the laughter for?” Elliott shouldered his duffel, standing next to Margaret.

“Oh I was just telling them embarrassing stories about Peggy,” her mother winked as she locked the van. “I bet you would be interested in hearing about the time she worked the cheese counter of a JoJo Mart and accidentally gave someone who was vegan a dairy-based cheese.”

Rolling her eyes, Margaret sighed, “That was one time, and it honestly was not that funny.”

“Her impression of you was very amusing, even if the story was not,” Garrett chuckled as he unlocked the front door to the house. He held the door open for everyone, allowing them to enter the house before closing the door behind him.

Eleanor was quick, taking Garrett’s bad along with hers and hurrying through the house to shout behind her, “Dear, why don’t you keep them company while I dust off the guest rooms?”

Sharing a look with Elliott, Margaret jerked her head in the direction of his mom. He looked after her, nodding and calling out, “Would you like some assistance, Mother?” Upon confirmation, Elliott also took Margaret’s bag as he walked further into the house, leaving her alone with his father, Ahmed, and her parents.

Margaret took the moment in between breaths to take in the house decor. Naturally, there were multiple bookshelves kept in precise order with well-loved chairs for plenty of places to read. There was a piano tucked into one corner of the front room, perfect for entertaining guests or practicing. It was so effortlessly homely, down to every knickknack that adorned the various surfaces. All it needed was a fireplace, and it was almost a reflection of her own house.

“Well,” Garrett rubbed his hands together, “would anyone like some tea?”

“Oh thank Yoba, yes please,” Ahmed had finally settled down, wiping tears from his eyes. “You always make the earl grey just perfectly.”

With just the light lingering taste of Elliott’s cum in the back of her throat, Margaret nodded, “I wouldn’t mind some either, thank you.”

“That would be delightful,” her mother continued to glance around the room, moving to one of the bookshelves to browse the titles.

“Just water, thanks,” her father muttered, his eyes on Margaret.

After they received their drinks and Eleanor and Elliott returned, they sat and talked about the baby shower and book signing. The parents appeared to be much more invested, although Margaret did notice her father being a little less enthusiastic. She could not wait until her mom found out the truth.

When it came time for dinner, they debated on going out or staying in for food. The lack of fresh ingredients in the fridge and overall laziness made the decision for them, and soon Margaret and Elliott were sent out to pick up the take out.

They were silent as they walked, Margaret already regretting that she didn’t take the time to switch to flats instead of heels. She sighed, looking at the skyline as the skyscrapers began to light up the night scene.

“Are you okay?” Elliott looked at her, concern written all over his face as they passed by a number of people.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Margaret rubbed her temple, “I just should have chosen different shoes is all.”

“Ah,” Elliott responded, returning them to semi-awkward silence. 

It was the first time they were completely alone. Even with all of the people around them, none of them expected them to act like a married couple. Even when they were behind closed doors, in the bedroom, there was a sense of pretend. Of pretending everything was okay and that they were a happy couple. They were just friends though, albeit friends with benefits. How were they supposed to act in public when no one was around?

“I have been turning some thoughts in my mind,” Elliott started, pausing as they split to let a group of people through on the street. “In the city, they do not recognize mermaid pendants as a sign of marriage.”

Looking up from the sidewalk, Margaret glanced at Elliott’s profile. He seemed fairly serious. “Most of the country doesn’t. We will only be in the city for a week, is it that important?”

“Admittedly no,” Elliott sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But there will likely be questions if there are no rings…”

She frowned, mind too full of emotions to process them. “Where would we buy wedding bands on short notice? Do we even have the funds for them? What would we do with them after…” Margaret paused, looking for the right word, “after we divorce?”

“I was wanting it to be a surprise, but a large publisher picked up my book.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “They also accepted my query for a three part series I have been drafting. I had just signed the contract and received the signing before I discovered my parent’s plans of visiting.” Chuckling awkwardly, he avoided a pedestrian before continuing. “It was swept under the proverbial rug with everything that has been happening.”

Margaret stopped him with a hand on his arm, eyes growing wide as she looked at him. “You have a book deal?” Grinning, Elliott nodded, “I even have an editor. We have conversed a couple of times about what I am hoping to accomplish, and I truly think they will help me achieve my goals.”

“That is fantastic!” Margaret practically shrieked and jumped, wrapping her arms around him, “Congratulations, Elliott!”

Sliding his arms around her waist in a hug, Elliott grew red as people began to stare. “Thank you. It’s only because you pushed me through my first novel that I have this chance at my dreams. I’ve done a piss-poor job at conveying my gratitude for all you have done and continue to do for me. Let me buy you this ring. It doesn’t have to be a wedding band, just a simple set of rings.”

“I…” Staring at him in slight shock, Margaret tried to not be too conscious of the people around her. “Well, if you put it that way, how can I say no?”

Elliott grinned, his face practically glowing in a way that caught her breath, almost causing her to blurt out that forbidden word she kept behind her teeth. “Splendid! Now, there happens to be a quaint jewelry store right by the restaurant. We can run in and pick something out, if that works for you?”

“Right now?” Margaret stepped away, straightening her coat.

“Why not?” There was a bounce in his step as he continued down the sidewalk. “No time like the present.”

The quiet between them was less tense as they quickly walked blocks to the jewelry store. Frankly, Margaret was impressed they were open that late on a Friday. It was the city though, not Pelican Town, so perhaps it was to be expected. Elliott held the door open, allowing Margaret to enter and take in all of the sparkles that suddenly assaulted her eyes.

The jeweler popped out from behind one of the cases of gems, blinking owlishly at the two of them and asking in a subdued tone, “Hello, may I help you?”

Elliott grabbed her shoulder, pulling her forward with him, “We are looking for matching bands, please.”

A slow blink followed by an equally slow smile, they merely nodded their head and walked towards one of the cases towards the back, “Right this way. Anything in particular you are looking for in the rings?”

“We would like to leave with them, if that is possible,” Margaret hesitated, still feeling a little uneasy at spending Elliott’s hard earned money, especially when she had plenty herself.

“No worry, we have some styles available,” the jeweler waved their hand and stepped behind a case full of rings. “Here is what is available for walk-in purchases. Plainer than bands you could get if you had more time for sizing and customization, but there are still some beautiful bands.”

Stuffing the uneasy feeling behind layers of mortar and stone, Margaret smiled and looked at the rings. Most were very plain, simple gold bands without decoration. Some had a couple diamonds or crystals, or filigree for a different look.

“What about those two?” Elliott pointed, drawing her eyes to a set that oddly enough, did not match.

The jeweler smiled, glasses flashing in the lights as they took a key and unlocked the case. They pulled the two rings out for them to see, “These are, well, not your usual wedding bands.”

Margaret looked at them, too afraid to touch them in case something happened. The smaller band looked to be made to look like a feather that wrapped around the finger – a style that had been popular in the past, but with the gold and a small green crystal between the beginning and the end, it looked far from a cheap fashion choice.

The larger of the two was definitely less delicate, the band a solid ring with tiny flowers engraved into the gold. In between the flowers and the edge of the band were the smallest green crystals she had ever seen.

“They’re gorgeous, Elliott,” Margaret spoke honestly, confusion unfurling in her chest. There were plenty of other, cheaper bands to choose from. So why did his eyes twinkle in barely restrained joy?

“Would you like to try them on?” The jeweler’s smile turned smug, eyes wrinkling in the corners.

Elliott took the feathered one, holding out his hand for her. She swallowed, putting her and in his lightly. Her heart thudded in every part of her, conscious of everything as his fingers slid the ring perfectly into place on her left ring finger.

Her hands were suddenly clammy, fingers shaking slightly as she took the other ring and his hand. Margaret felt his eyes on her as she slid the ring onto his own hand, the ring fitting as perfectly as hers had. Eyes flashing up to his, Margaret’s suspicions grew at the look on his face.

Oh Yoba.

Her mind immediately shut down the thoughts. No. She wasn’t about to get her hopes up. He was a man who said how he felt. He wouldn’t stay silent about something like love.

“You idiot,” her voice was breathless, “You had these made for us.”

“Guilty as charged,” Elliott’s smile grew, that damnably adorable dimple deepening. “Just a small surprise, which I must admit worked out very well.”

“How did you get the right sizing for the ring?” Margaret marveled again at the ring, feeling her heart squeeze painfully with wonder.

Elliott shrugged, “I donned by detective’s cap and snooped around the bedroom until I found a ring. I measured from there.”

“I must admit, it was an odd request,” the jeweler fixed their round glasses, “But luckily for Eli here, I am very good at rush orders.”

“You made this?” Margaret looked between the two, not sure if she should feel elated, humbled, grateful, or confused. “It is splendid.”

The jeweler beamed, “It’s enough to see you two smile. The reason behind the trade. And, well, to make money. Which, by the way,” they looked at Elliott, “you have already paid, so you are free to go!”

“Thank you,” Margaret shook her head, the surprise almost bringing tears to her eyes.

Chuckling, Elliott accepted the boxes from the jeweler, depositing them in his pockets. “You’re very welcome. As I mentioned before, this is just a small sign of my gratitude for everything.”

Margaret was quiet as they walked out of the shop, her emotions getting the better of her before she could lock them down like usual. As soon as the door shut behind them, she responded, “I never do any of what I do for you with the expectation of you returning anything.”

“I know,” Elliott took her aside, grabbing her hands and kissing her fingers, “Which is why I feel compelled to give you everything.”

It suddenly seemed that her heart had taken up residence in her throat. His breath was warm, eyes gentle, and Yoba it filled her heart until she could feel it overflow onto her face. But then she felt her stomach begin to growl. Seizing the moment, Margaret grabbed his face and kissed him hard, pulling away fast and covering her face as she blushed. “Thank you.”

Seemingly dazed, Elliott took a moment and smiled, his hand finding hers and threading their fingers together. “You’re welcome.”

The takeout that night was delicious, especially as her and Elliott sat side-by-side, knees gently bumping each other. Their parents were smiling, getting together like a house on fire as they talked about everything from books to politics to home repairs. Ahmed even seemed to be enjoying himself, relaying stories of his studies abroad for medical school and telling gross ER stories.

Occasionally, Margaret would look down to where Elliott’s hand rested on her thigh, the touch casual and comforting. She would look at that hand, to the ring on his finger. The ring that she now realized was engraved with daisies. And little by little, the wall that she erected around her heart began to crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Two months is a long time, wow, that was not planned. A concussion occurred in those two months, otherwise this probably would have been finished long ago. Excuses, excuses. Anyways, back to the usual schedule of things-I'm hoping to go back to updating every Monday evening. Why Mondays? I dunno, just seems like a good time for me haha.
> 
> I hope you all had a lovely June!
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but with a small surprise at the end!

Elliott woke with a start, a nightmare chasing him from sleep. Trying to steady his breathing, he attempted to recall what it was that caused his heart to race. The smell of Margaret’s shampoo helped calm him and he pulled her closer, wondering how he could take solace in just holding her.

Ah, that was what his nightmare was about. Curse his overactive imagination, pulling Margaret into an unpleasant dream and trying to taint reality. Still, he could not help but linger over the nightmare, the anger in her as she yelled about how he had ruined her life. Marrying her and getting her pregnant, wanting nothing to do with a sham of an author. The hatred had seemed so real.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Elliott realized that there was no way he was going to fall back asleep with how busy his mind and heart were. He eased back from Margaret, trying his best to not wake her and succeeding.

It was odd to be back in his old bedroom, the walls oddly bare and the bedspread nothing he would have owned. The only thing that remained of his childhood were the shelves and the bed. The bed that his wife now slept peacefully in, the sight healing an old wound he did not realize he had. That bed had seen some unfortunately dark times, times Elliott tried to not linger on.

Crossing over to the old desk, Elliott dug through the drawers and found what he searched for. He lit the candle, the soft flame enough to light his manuscript but not disturb Margaret. The manuscript in question was pulled from his briefcase, along with a red pen.

And so, Elliott put himself to work, reading over every word and determining their value. The initial edits were always the hardest, yet Elliott enjoyed the work it brought, the refining of the words and emotions until it was perfect (as close as any draft of any book was perfect, since there was no such thing as a perfect piece of art).

Elliott dove into the work, only surfacing to check the time and rub at his tired eyes. By his wristwatch, it was a quarter to four in the morning. He wanted to continue, yet his body pulled him back towards the bed and Margaret.

Turning in temptation, Elliott started as he realized Margaret was awake and watching him.

She spoke first, her voice heavy with sleep in a way that Elliott recognized as her self-proclaimed “sleepy-Peggy-mode.” He had learned that when she was particularly exhausted, she was at her most honest and vulnerable. “What’re you doin’ up?”

“A little work is all, but I am done for now,” Elliott smiled, looking at how the flickering light of the candle brought her to life. He moved to blow it out and return to bed, but he was interrupted by Margaret.

“Leave the candle. It’s givin’ you a halo,” her eyes wandered over him, the sleep slowly draining from them.

Unable to help himself, Elliott grinned, the answering smile from Margaret enough to chase away any lingering shadows from his mind. “Your compliment astounds me. Perhaps you should be the one writing this book?” He stood, coming to kneel by the bed and look at her as she lounged. His mind whirled with words as his eyes traced the column of her neck and the curve of her hip through the bedding. He tried to sear the sight into his eyes for later use.

Margaret reached out, pulling him into bed and rolling partially on top of him. Her honeyed scent fell over him and he buried his nose in her hair to breath it in. “I used to write.”

Blinking, Elliott fought off the temptations the bed was whispering to him. “You used to? What happened?”

“The words dried up.” Margaret’s voice was steady, too steady. Elliott looked down at her, shocked to see a glimmer of tears. “I spent most of my adolescence writing. I wrote of great warriors who took out despots and gods. I wrote of characters coming to terms with grief, with death, with hopelessness. It was how I dealt with my own emotions. Then I became an adult, and all of my being was thrown into making money to pay off loans and to make my family proud. Next I looked, that well that I always depended on was gone.” She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears before they fell from her eyes. Numbly, she traced letters on his chest.

“I would sit and look at the screen of my computer for hours, hoping to get at least one hundred words written. Everything came out absolute garbage. I was, and I still am, devastated by it. I haven’t tried since.”

Elliott was quiet for a moment, processing the words. The idea of not being able to write terrified him. What would he do if he was no longer able to write? To not be able to share the worlds and stories that compounded in his head, forever force to keep them within til he burst? Writing was his everything. It sounded as if it had been hers. “Do not allow despair to consume you. Those years were unkind to you, but now you flourish and continue to grow. Perhaps it is not too late. We have some time to ourselves later today. Let us visit my favorite café, and see if we could not get your hands wet with ink once more.”

“I think I would like that,” Margaret gave him a wobbly smile. She sighed and wiggled in his arms until she scooted upwards, planting a kiss on his cheek.   
“Thank you, Elliott. You’re too sweet.”

There was a desperate fight to keep the heat from infecting his cheeks at her words. He looked at her, from her tousled hair to the gentle curve of her lips to the way the candle flickered in her jade eyes. She was absolutely exquisite, and it temporarily knocked him on his ass that she was there with him. That she was attracted to him in any possible way. That this woman, who so rarely shared her insecurities, willingly told him of her struggle to write, even after the fact that she had helped him do that very thing without a word of complaint. “Margaret…”

Her smile grew, those kind eyes crinkling in the corners, “Just say you’re welcome.”

Chuckling, Elliott readjusted, turning to face her with her thigh thrown over his hip. “You are the patron saint of selflessness.”

Nose crinkling, Margaret tangled her fingers in his hair, “I’m fairly certain that’s blasphemy in some religion.”

“I’m serious,” Elliott smiled, impulsively kissing her nose. “You are the kindest, most selfless person I have had the honor of knowing. Who else would go along with my selfish ideas without a whisper of complaint? Would open her home and coffers without a second thought and go above and beyond what I could ever expect? Why do you do so much for me?”

She was careful to not change her crooked expression, but Elliott could see the truth of her heart in her eyes. He held his breath, the tension rising with the question that had occupied his thoughts and desires.

Their relationship was too intimate, too caring. They had unconsciously crossed the boundary between friends with benefits into something else. Feelings beyond simple friendship and sexual attraction, something more. It was not merely because they were playing husband and wife. Elliott wondered if she noticed. With her inexperience, would she?    

More importantly, did she want to?

The tension built for another moment as Elliott watched Margaret work to form a response. Would it be the one he longed to hear, but would never force from her?

"Because I care, and it is what any friend would do,” Margaret offered, her words sounding too light for his liking.

“Is that what we are, friends?” Elliott tried to keep the hurt from his voice, only a pale shade to be found.

She winced, hands returning to her body, “With benefits.”

The fear in her eyes caused him to reel backwards, head hitting the pillow. Perhaps he was just imagining the tension between them as something else. The memory of the nightmare poked him, warning him to not push her away and hurt her. Elliott was already being selfish with her. He would not take away her choice. “I see. You certainly deserve the award for best friend with how dedicated you are to them.” He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to spill his heart to her and pull her close.

"Elliott…” her voice sounded hurt. Damn it all. This was not how he wanted to do things.

After his spectacular failures in the past week to tell her of his feelings, Elliott had resigned to having her read the truth in his works about her. Had promised himself that if she said nothing of the journal that she did not return his feelings, or did not want to even acknowledge them. And he would honor that. It was her life, as much as he longed to be a part of it.

“Forgive me, I am overtired and need to rest. I do not know what came over me,” Elliott sighed, rubbing his eyes and hoping it came across as tiredness, rather than an attempt to dispel tears. He turned and got up to blow out the candle, the warmth gone.

Margaret was quiet as he returned to the bed, an odd distance between them. After a tense minute, he felt the mattress shift and a hand come to cradle his cheek, turning him towards her. He heard her swallow, voice small as she admitted, “I am the one who should apologize… I… I’m not good with emotions. If I hurt you in any way I am so so-”

He hushed her with a kiss, suddenly too afraid of what Margaret was about to say. She tensed up, but quickly relaxed as he once again pulled her into his arms. It felt like she belonged there, pressed against him and heartbeat thrumming against his own. “Do not worry yourself. We’re both exhausted, and people say odd things when they are exhausted before the morning dawns. Go to sleep, my daisy. We can talk when you are ready.”

Margaret caressed his jaw, the touches feather-light as she curled into him. He felt her press a kiss against his chest, before whispering, “Goodnight, Elliott.”

He fell asleep wondering if five days was enough time for Margaret to come to terms with the fact they were in love. Or if he would have to learn to sleep without her in his arms.

Needless to say, he did not sleep well for the remainder of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! To make up for it, I posted an old-ish art piece that's been sitting around my laptop. I'm hoping that since it was a short one, I'll try to get another short chapter out this week. What do you think? Would you prefer shorter chapters, with more frequent updates-or-longer chapters with longer periods in-between?
> 
> We're really ramping up to (one of) the climax(es), finally! The storytelling kind, not the sexy kind. There's been many of those so far.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up to an empty house can be very pleasant

Waking up was a slow process, her eyes refusing to open to the daylight. Margaret listened to the sound of Elliott’s soft breaths, feeling his thumb softly brush her lower stomach. The caress was comforting, but sent strong signals to her sleepy brain that forced her to wake up.

Humming, Margaret brushed her hand across the arm wrapped around her. She chuckled when he responded by pulling her closer, tucking his head into the curve of her neck. “Good morning, Elliott.”

“Did I wake you?” Elliott mumbled against the sensitive skin, sending chills down her spine.

“No,” Margaret sighed, warmth filling her as she nestled against him. The morning light barely filtered through the blinds, leading her to believe it was still fairly early in the morning. “How long have you been up?”

His fingers spread across her skin, the palm of his hand warm and comforting. “No more than an hour.” Elliott’s voice was slow and mumbled, like he was fighting off sleep.

Carefully, Margaret turned over in his arms to face him. Elliott lifted his face to her, and she could see the sleep in his face. Still thinking of the things he said last night, the stubborn hope that bloomed in her only to be shut down, Margaret brushed her fingers over his face. Traced his features as the tension left his brow and jaw and his eyes slid shut. “Sleep, dear. I’ll be here when you wake.”

His eyes opened for an instant, and the emotions that surged through them shattered her to the core. Elliott made a small noise before rewrapping an arm around her, Margaret’s own arms holding him close to her. She tucked his head under her chin, feeling his soft breaths against her chest as he snuggled in. “Promise?”

She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I promise.” After sensing that he had settled in, Margaret unconsciously began to hum. It was one of her favorite ballads, one that had kept her sane in trying times. She felt him melt into her arms, and it was only then that Margaret truly realized how stressed he had become. Carding her hand through his hair, she continued humming until she heard gentle snores.

After last night and the questions Elliott had asked, Margaret was beginning to wonder if her feelings were not as one-sided as she thought they were. It wasn’t the first time she had wondered about his feelings in the past couple of days, but it was the first time she wasn’t immediately pushing the thought away. The fear of rejection, and even more so, the fear of something actually coming from it, had always kept her from attachment. 

She was such a chicken-shit that she was more willing to let the one chance of love she’s had in all of her life walk away rather than possibly chance rejection. Margaret had moved away to not hide behind logic and to accept her emotions.

Margaret needed to tell Elliott that she was in love with him.

…

“Names!” 

Practically jumping out of her skin, Margaret jolted out of sleep. Her brain took a moment to catch up with her body and she blinked up to see impossibly green eyes hovering over her. Squinting, she asked, “Names?”

Elliott’s hair was a damn mess if she ever saw one, but there was a bright grin on his face. The kind she saw only when he was struck by some sort of author brilliancy and had to write everything down. “For the baby!”

Margaret was beginning to wonder if her ears were working properly. “For… the baby.”

He nodded, “Isn’t that what expectant parents do? Come up with names for the baby?”

Oh Yoba, she had nearly forgotten about the fact that she was supposed to be pregnant with his child. “Yes,” she drew out the word, brain still arriving from   
Dreamland. “You want to name our nonexistent baby?”

“Why should we not? Coming up with names is fun, and it is entirely harmless,” Elliott sat up, trying to run his hands through his hair and failing. “All that aside, there may be inquiries during the baby shower. It would be best to show a unified front!”

“You’ve been thinking about this,” Margaret chuckled, brushing her own hair away from her face and rubbing at her eyes. She sat up, leaning against the headboard for support and gave Elliott her undivided attention. “Do you have any names picked out already?”

“It’s an old tradition in the family that we combine elements of the names of the parents to get the child’s name.” Elliott smiled, cheeks dimpling as a blush appeared on his cheeks. “Try as I might, there is no great combination of Margaret and Elliott with the exception of the name Margot.”

Margaret thought for a moment, a smile passing onto her face as Elliott took her hand in his and traced the lines of her palm. “What about something with three syllables? Both of our names have three syllables. I like Margot, though.”

“My word, that is an interesting realization. How about Marell? I’ve always been fond of the name Gabriel or Jonathan.” Elliott rubbed his chin. “It’s so different from thinking about character names.”

She laughed, and his responding smile caused butterflies in her stomach. Gosh, she thought she was past that. “The baby is just as real as any character.”

“Putting it like that won’t make it any easier to fool others into thinking there is a baby. We need to be excited about the baby,” Elliott shifted forward, eyes intent on her. “We need to be a family; a couple madly in love with each other and blind with happiness about having a baby.”

“Well when you put it like that,” Margaret was breathless. His eyes were so expressive, the light in them almost convincing her of the words he said. “I guess we do need to act a little more convincingly about the baby.” She swallowed, “Though some part of that should be easy to do.”

Elliott’s grin gave away the kiss before his lips met hers. He crawled in between her legs, cupping her cheek and kissing her with a softness not reserved for friends with benefits. When he pulled away, his thumb pressed softly against her lower lip. “And what part would that be?”

The answer was right behind her lips, still in her throat as her heart thundered in her. It was now or never. Her eyes dropped from his eyes to his chin and she bit her lip. “The part where I think we’re no longer pretending to be a married couple.”

… close enough.

“I was wondering where we were going with this,” a switch seemed to have gone off in him, a light radiating from every pore of him. “Have you read the journal I gave you?”

“I haven’t had the chance to, why?” she couldn’t help but smile at him, the look on his face enough to fill her heart to overflowing. Her hands went to him, touching his face and tracing his cheekbones, taking in the incandescent joy housed in his eyes.

Elliott shook his head, hand catching hers and pressing a warm kiss against her palm. “Only that it is important you read it. My thoughts are so much more eloquent when written down, but I shall make an attempt now.” He swallowed, pausing as if trying to find the right words to string together. Whatever he was about to admit, it made Margaret more nervous than she had ever been before, to the point that she felt nauseous and clammy. 

“When this all began, I was fully prepared for things to grow awkward between us. After all, it is hard to pretend to be in love and married to your best friend on such short notice. What I was not prepared for was how easy it would be.” She was transfixed as he spoke, only numbly aware of his hands holding onto her own.

“It feels so natural to think of you as my wife. I,” he flushed, looking away briefly and clearing his throat, “In all of my wildest dreams, I did not foresee any of what has happened between us in the past two weeks. Perhaps this is a rather one-sided feeling, but I do not want a divorce.”

Margaret laughed, a bubbly feeling filling her at his words. “It’s not one-sided. I don’t want a divorce, Elliott. I want to stay with you.”

He laughed with her, bringing her hands to his lips as he kissed every finger, lingering to kiss the wedding band. “You are the most spectacular being I have had the pleasure of knowing. Will you take this poor poet as your husband for the rest of your life?”

She mirrored his actions, suddenly finding herself holding back tears as she kissed the daisies on his ring. “Only if you will take this mess of a farmer as your wife.”

“Of course I do,” a grin took over his face, his eyes glossy with his own unshed tears.

Suddenly unable to hold back herself, Margaret kissed him. Giggled as their teeth clicked painfully together, the sounds replicated by Elliott and swallowed by their mouths. She couldn’t keep her hands to herself, and suddenly they were rolling in the sheets, Elliott pressing down on her and her pressing against him.   
They paused, breathes mingling and hands lingering on each other.

“We should get going, but…” Margaret bit her lip, feeling Elliott’s heated skin under her fingertips.

Flipping hair out of his hair, he glanced up at the clock besides the bed. As he worked out whatever was going through his mind, his hand brushed against the undersides of her breasts, teasing in his touch. “I believe,” Elliott smirked, returning his attention to her, “that not only do we have time, but if my parents still stick to the same schedule as they used to, that we have the house to ourselves.”

“Oh well then,” she grinned, already divesting Elliott of his shirt and beginning to work on the ties of his pajama pants, “Best to grab the bull by the horns.”

“Margaret,” he admonished her gently, any bite removed by the accompanied moan as she took him in hand. “There is no need for speed. We can take all the time we would like to bring each other pleasure.”

She smiled at him, sunlight filling her corners, “Of course, dear husband.” Margaret kissed the corner of his upturned lips, watching his eyes spark to life at her words. “Just tell me what you want and it shall be yours. I have very few reservations about kinks.”

“Hm, yes,” Elliott’s hand returned to her breast, cupping her under her nightgown. “We must discuss such things in earnest. Perhaps a wish for a wish?”

Stroking him lightly and feeling his cock slowly harden, Margaret gave him a twisted smile, “Promise to not run away screaming?”

“With the family jewels in your hand?” Elliott chuckled, causing a giggle of her own, “I think not. Please, open your mind to me.”

Nervous bubbles popped in her stomach. These were things she had never truly spoken about to another person. “Bondage,” she blurted out, abruptly pulling her hands away and hiding her face from him as she blushed. “Bondage is one of them.”

There was a pause, then gentle laughter, before Elliott eased her hands away from her face, kissing her palms. “Do not feel ashamed for that. In the grand scheme of kinks, that is rather mild in my understanding. Do you prefer being restrained, or doing the restraining?”

“Both,” she managed to get out, heart thudding in her chest. 

“Hm,” Elliott hummed, hovering above her, “I must admit that the image of one of us tied up is rather arousing. Would you wish to try?”

“…really?” Margaret blinked, “You would be willing to try?”

“Relationships are built on trying,” Elliott grinned and pressed his lips to her cheek, slowly trailing over to her lips. “And if it makes you happy, I am willing to try anything.”

Margaret gave him an owlish stare, thoughts running in so many directions she couldn’t grab a hold of one coherent train of thought. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to try right now. We don’t have the right kind of ropes, or cuffs, and ties are not as good for bondage as fiction leads you to believe.”

“You’ve done your research,” Elliott pulled away, hands trailing over her thighs in light touches. 

Following after him, she looped her arms over his shoulders and ran her hands through his hair, “A little. What about you though? Anything you want that we can do without preparation?”

His eyes slid away from her to the desk, “I’ve always been drawn to the idea of my lover splayed across a paper-filled desk, with candlelight highlighting the curve of their spine…”

“Oh,” Margaret swallowed, biting her lip as heat climbed her neck. “I… I would be up for that.”

“Come here, then,” Elliott growled playfully, lifting her from the bed. He laughed as she squeaked, helping her wrap her legs around his waist and awkwardly shuffling over to the desk. “Alas, the candlelight shall wait for another time.”

“What a shame.” Grinning, Margaret shimmied as Elliott quickly removed her nightgown. “Here I was hoping to risk setting the house on fire.”

“Enjoying each other’s company as the world burns down around them, how romantic,” Elliott rumbled, hands running over her hips and thighs. He bit his lip, eyes taking her in like it was the first time all over again. "If you find bondage arousing, is it fair to guess that you might enjoy some rougher handling?”

Her breathing stuttered, the knowing look on Elliott’s face arousing her more than it had any right to. “Good guess.”

His nose skimmed down the side of her neck, lips ghosting over her collarbone and pressing against the hollow of her throat. Margaret arched into him as Elliott’s teeth scraped against her skin. “The next question is how rough?”

Moaning at the husky tone of his voice, Margaret melted into his hands. “As rough as you want.” Her breath caught as he sucked her skin into his mouth. “Oh, I like that.”

Elliott chuckled, releasing the skin from between his teeth and kissing his way back up her neck, “For your sake, I hope you brought concealer.”

Her hands curled on the desk, supporting her as she stared up into his darkened eyes, “I did.”

His hand drifted up from where it had been clutching her thigh, teasing at the line of her underwear, “We have all morning to ourselves. We could take our time, yet I find myself starving for the taste of you on my lips.”

She rolled her hips, opening her legs wider to entice him closer, “Feel free to devour as much as you’d like.”

Elliott nipped at her lower lip, a wicked smile on his face as his hands settled on her hips, “I could not ask for a better breakfast.”

Understanding his intention, Margaret quickly slipped off the desk and turned around, feeling him brush against her backside as she adjusted. “You are such a dork.”

He gently, but insistently pushed her down to lie on the desk and placed a kiss at the top of her spine. “You are married to this dork. Bound to him even.”

“Hm,” Margaret hummed, voice stuttering as he trailed down her spine and barely above the line of her underwear. “I think I like being bound by him.”

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” Elliott sounded bemused, and Margaret turned her head to see where he was. His fingers hooked into her underwear and he pulled them off her. “For now… oh my, look at you. Glistening for me.” Anticipation boiled in her for a split second before she felt his mouth on her.

Elliott had eaten her out before a couple times now, seeming to love pleasuring her with his mouth. But the new angle brought something else with it, as Margaret wasn’t able to see him and what he looked like. She moaned, low and loud as his hot tongue licked a stripe along her clit and opening. Unpredictable, Elliott’s tongue continued to draw moans and encouragements from Margaret’s lips. He held firmly onto her hips to keep her steady, even as she unconsciously rocked them into his face. 

Her orgasm was swift, brought about as Elliott sucked on her clit hard and continued to stroke as she came down. She keened at the overstimulation, heart thundering as she pressed her face against the wood of the deck. Yoba, she was never divorcing this man. His persistence gave her another quick climax, her knees shaking from the pleasure. Her mind was perfectly blank and she breathed against the desk, wisps of her hair flying away.

“Margaret?” Elliott’s voice was rough, but the concern was obvious as he pressed a gentle, but wet, kiss against the back of her thigh.

She let out a pleased sound, turning her head to press her cheek against the cool wood. “I’m fine. More than fine. That was perfect, Elliott.”

“Do you require a moment before continuing?” She heard the floor groan as he stood, face coming into her view. Oh gods and saints he was a hot mess. She probably looked much of the same. She could feel the flush all over her upper half.

Shifting to assess herself, Margaret brushed against his erection, still barely clothed in his pajama pants. What was he doing still dressed? “Oh, I am absolutely good to go. I want to feel you in me.”

“No need to ask twice,” Elliott smiled, then moved back. She heard the sounds of fabric rustling, then a warm hand on her back, keeping her steady as Margaret felt his cock rub against her. Then the slow, languid stretch of her muscles as he slid into her. Elliott’s hands slid up her back, tracing her arms before grabbing onto her hands and pressing them against the wood. “You are a sight to behold, my daisy.”

Sighing at the fullness in her, Margaret arched as much as she could to gain friction, “Elliott…” He was so warm, so perfect in her. Which was fuller, her heart or her body? She didn’t know if she would get used to it, to the idea that they were together, like this. “Love, please, I need you.”

There was a pause, a long sucked in breath behind her, then she realized what had slipped through her lips. The ‘L’ word. Just as she began to tense and fumble for an apology or excuse, she felt him twitch inside her and a sloppy kiss was pressed against her shoulder. “You have me.” He paused again, before cursing and she felt him rest his head against her shoulder, “I want to see your face.”

The face in question was probably redder than a tomato, but she shifted, trying to rise and failing, “I… I mean, you can. That’s fine.”

He slid from her, allowing her to flip onto her back and stare into his face. “Do you love me?”

Margaret swallowed, taking in the intense look he gave her while taking note of the erection that lay between their bodies. The dryness in her mouth definitely did not help as she drew out, “Yesssss…”

Elliott’s face softened just as it reddened, “I’m honored that you think I am worthy of loving. If it is any consolation… I love you as well.”

Honored? Worthy? Consolation? Love? Margaret blinked, the words trying to enter and sit in her lust-addled mind and failing. “Of course you’re worthy, no need to console me. I just…” her eyes slid away, a mortifying sense of embarrassment creeping over her, “want you. In any way.”

“And you can have me in every way,” Elliott grabbed her hand, placing it over his heart, drawing her eyes back to him. “I give it to you freely.”

“Oh,” she said stupidly, her mind drawing a complete blank. “That’s good.”

Elliott blinked, then began to laugh. Small giggles turned into a roaring belly laugh as he broke the tension, wiping tears from his eyes. Margaret couldn’t help but join in, sitting up and leaning against him for support.

“We’ve been a couple of idiots, haven’t we, my darling?” Elliott brushed some hair from her face, calming down from the giggles. 

“You can blame it all on me and my stupid emotional constipation,” Margaret leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around her. It still hadn’t quite yet hit her that his words were sincere. That even a fraction of what she felt was returned. The kiss to her forehead eased some of the tension in her shoulders.

“No, no blame is being placed on anyone. I am glad we have arrived to this point, however.” Elliott hummed. “I certainly did not help.”

They were quiet for several moments, taking in the shift that had just occurred. And it had all started from trying to figure out baby names, of all things. It… might take some time to adjust her thinking. How did she even begin to act in a very suddenly real relationship? She brushed that issue aside for later introspection.

“Hey Elliott, not that this isn’t great and all… but…” Margaret dragged it out, not sure if she should just be direct or skirt around to the point.

“But?” Elliott’s voice sounded dubious.

“Could we get back to the part where you were about to absolutely destroy my vagina?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done yet, folks!
> 
> There had been a more long and drawn out plot in mind, but sometimes characters take the carefully thought-out plot from the author's greedy and throw it in a bonfire. In any case, I wrote and rewrote a majority of this chapter a couple of times. Heck, I even considered running parallel timelines for two different endings depending on whether or not you really wanted an agonizing slow burn. There is still more to come, but my characters have now won over my various attempts to create a very long, drawn out slow-burn. Not that the fire is all there yet, mind you. Just the first beginnings of flames that are very easily doused out.
> 
> Take care (Ipromisethenextchapterwonttakeamonthandahalftogetuploadedsorryfolks)!!


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